Chasm
by PossumSoul
Summary: I don't know what happened. I don't even know how. One minute, I'm in the best relationship of my life and the next... I feel as if I'm on the verge of losing him altogether. All over this Erica Vaughn. (Role reversal of 5x22 and AU)
1. Chapter 1

I know I can get pleased with myself pretty easily, but I really do have to give myself some credit for this one. It's going to be epic. She loves it when I combine my natural talent of goofing off with my other more... natural talents.

The first night that we are actually off at the same time in over two weeks, and we are seriously overdue. This is going to go over so huge. An expensive bottle of wine that I've hidden among her own stock in her kitchen, a rose taken from the bouquet I brought her yesterday, the stereo tuned to track four of that swing band I heard her listening to the other day, a fedora, and half the buttons on my shirt already undone.

You know, to save her some time. I can feel myself pull back a mischievous grin at that thought. She might not even bother undoing them properly after this.

After practicing the trick where I flip the fedora onto my head and succeeding, of course, I click on the stereo and grab the rose from her dresser. "Oh, Beckett!" I call her apartment.

"Yeah," She says to me from the couch.

That's my cue. I throw on my best mysterious smirk and launch myself out of her bedroom door, the fedora in one hand and the rose in another. I slide across her hardwood in my socks, holding my arms out and looking away from her, giving her a ruggedly handsome brooding face, presenting what's in store for her. "Ever do it with a world-famous mystery writer?"

I do the fedora hat flip trick and it lands perfectly on my head. I can only imagine her face now. I run my fingers along the rim and pull my arms in, standing up and crossing them in another pose. "Yeah... yeah, I know, I saw that one." She says, sounding way too uninterested for my liking.

I crack my eyes open and see her sitting cross-legged in the center of her couch with her phone to her ear and her laptop open in front of her. We haven't had a night off in forever. Two weeks is a forever for us. What could possibly be more interesting than this? "What do you think, Beckett?" I try again and put the rose between my teeth, looking over to her under the rim of the fedora. "Don't you want me?" I ask over the rose in my mouth. This thing tastes way worse than it looks.

She looks over to me with one hand holding her phone to her ear and the other on the mousepad of her laptop. "No, I don't really like that look."

I can feel a rock drop into my stomach at her... well, her insult. I'm in my blue pin-striped shirt, she loves this shirt. She told me the last time she took it off of me. I'll grant her we were both a bit tipsy, but still... she loves this shirt. No need to let this get me down, "Come on, Beckett." I try again as she looks back down to the screen in front of her and take the rose out of my mouth, holding it down to my exposed chest. "Your favorite part about this shirt is taking it off."

"No, not that one. The red one." She says and leans closer to the screen, clicking on the mousepad.

I can feel myself come to a stop and let my arms fall to the side. This is so not how I had this scene written out in my head. She's ruining my story! "My red shirt?"

"Yeah, I like the red one better." She tells her phone. I sink my teeth down into the inside of my lip and let my shoulders slump. She's not even paying attention. She's talking on her phone. The one night off we have together and even now, she's on her phone. "Yeah, I _love_ that one. That's a great look."

She can't be serious. She's spending our night together online shopping with... whoever that is intruding and stomping all over this night? I swear, if it's Lanie, I'm going to have to be talked out of calling the mayor and having her fired, or at the very least suspended. I can do that, right? No worries, this can still be salvaged. I smile and reach into her bedroom, pulling out the pair of wine glasses with one hand and try once again, hopefully with better results this time, to get her attention.

"Instead of playing dress up with your friends, wouldn't you much rather," I say and practically gallop across her apartment to snag the bottle of wine I snuck in to surprise her with, "play dress _down_ with your favorite writer?"

"I have that one, it goes so great with those boots I showed you."

This is getting to be unbelievable. And I can believe quite a bit. I look out to nowhere and start mocking. "Sure, Castle, I'd love to have some of that _really_ expensive wine you bought right before you take me to the bedroom and-"

"Hey, Sof? I've gotta go, my partner's bugging me."

" _Bugging_ you?!" I say, not even attempting to hide the incredulousness in my tone.

"Okay, say hi to Aunt Theresa for me. Bye." With an untroubled smile, she presses her thumb to her phone and swings her legs out from underneath her and stands up. "Where were we?" She asks me with that same smile, almost as if she's taunting me.

At this point, the fedora is hanging tilted back on my head and the fact that my shirt is hanging open simply looks like I forgot to button it up all the way. "Well, we were just going over how your _boyfriend_ seems to be... 'bugging you'." I tell her angrily, quoting her with my hands full of the wine and a set of glasses.

"I was on the phone with my cousin, Castle." She waves her hand at me as if she's dismissing why I'm even angry. Or simply me altogether, I'm too frustrated with her to choose between the two. She steps around her coffee table and eyes the bottle in my hand, not even a hint of being overwhelmed or giddy, like I had hoped.

"So, looking at clothes with your cousin, whom by your own admission is a chore to talk to, is more worthy of your one night together with your boyfriend then say..." I roll my eyes and pout my lips, waving the glasses in front of her, waiting for her to get my point, which she clearly doesn't get by the innocent look in her eye. "Me, maybe?"

"Is that a new wine?" She asks me, pointing at the bottle in my hand.

"Yes," the detective finally seems to have detected something. I put the bottle forward and let her read the label, hoping she realizes that it was pretty pricey. "I picked it up after my meeting at Black Pawn and snuck it in to surprise you."

"You couldn't have gotten a red?" She asks and finally gives me her eyes.

But it's a look of shrugging her shoulders and clearly being unsatisfied with... well, the whole endeavor, maybe of even whatever it is we're doing here. "This is a four- hundred dollar bottle of wine, Beckett!"

"Still," She quips as if it's nothing and takes the bottle from me.

As I grit my teeth to keep myself from yelling again, I feel my body deflate. I give up. This whole thing was stupid from the get-go. What a waste of time. "Why do I _even_ bother?!" I seethe to myself while turning around and going back into her bedroom.

I'm only two steps into the room, buttoning back up my shirt, feeling completely stupid, when I hear her following me. "Castle?" She calls, as if she doesn't even know what went wrong. She can't seriously be that dense. "Castle, I was on the phone. Is that so wrong?"

I'm buttoning up my cuffs as I turn back around with a clearly fake smile. "Oh, not at all." I say to her and turn around to face her, looking at her expression of looking as if she's innocent. "It's not as if your phone is to your ear enough at work. Why not have it there during the one night you have together with your boyfriend after he planned an evening of expensive wine and world-shaking sex?"

She smiles widely seems to want to start sauntering toward me. "Well, we can still do that." She quips and opens her arms. "Come here." She beckons.

"Oh, no," I stop her in her tracks by raising my hand. "After all, I wouldn't want to bug you." I say and step around her after her arms fall back down to her sides, along with her smile. I make it into the living room after grabbing the bottle of useless wine off her coffee table to… do something with, give it to a wine-o outside maybe.

"I didn't mean it like that, Castle. Now, come on, we can still play dress up if you want?" She tries her sultry voice. I can tell by her tone that she's waggling her eyebrows and giving me a grin, but I'm not bothering to look. I'm far past the point of coming back from being mad at her to be pulled back by one of her sexy grins, as sexy as it may be.

But the universe seems to never fail to give us an out, whether we want it or not, as her phone just started to go off on her couch. I look over my shoulder to the screen of her phone with a blank expression etched on my face, then back over to her. She's standing in the doorway of her bedroom, looking angrily at her phone.

"Better get that," I tell her and turn around, meandering backward into her kitchen. I decide to leave it there. Throwing out another sarcastic quip about her cousin would just make matters far worse.

In two long strides, she grabs up her phone then turns back to look up at me with a disengaging arch in her brow. "It's the precinct. Okay, babe?"

Her use of a pet name tries to knock through the armor I'm putting over myself. I can feel it. It's cute and I love it when she uses them in bed and if all had gone according to plan, hearing it would have driven me crazy. But clearly, not tonight.

I'm getting the twisting feeling in my gut that I should have just gone home after that meeting. This wouldn't have happened, say… two or three nights ago. There's no real way to be sure. Maybe two or three weeks ago, for sure. That night after the bomb incident was one of our best nights. Both of us just celebrating life itself by passionately going at each other until the sun came back up the next morning. I haven't let myself think it until now, that she hasn't said it again. Not even in passing. It's probably my own fault though. I've been afraid to test the waters.

But tonight, I had my toe out and ready to dip back in, had the words practiced in my head and formed on my tongue, ready to fire. I was ready, far passed willing, and very very able to tell her, once again, that she's the woman I love. Some fantasy that turned out to be. I can't let myself think that she didn't mean what she said that day. Not now. I'm angry and frustrated with her neglecting me, especially tonight… for clothes with her cousin.

She doesn't even _like_ Sofia. She told me last week that she found Sofia to be an annoying, stuck up, know-it-all. But I'm sure telling her that will definitely soothe things over between us and get her to see what a let down she's turning this, and us, into. I mean, there was a time not too long ago when an act like that would have gotten her so hot and bothered, there would have been a trail of fire leading into the bedroom.

Not anymore, it seems. Now, clothes with an annoying, stuck up, know-it-all seems to be more interesting than me.

"We'll be right there." She says into her phone before setting it back down and turning back to me with an apologetic arch in her brow. "We've got a case." She doesn't waste any time in shooting past me and into her bedroom to get dressed properly.

"Yeah, the case of who killed our night together." I say loudly from her foyer.

"Castle, can we please not get into this now? We have a killer to catch!" She calls back from her bedroom.

"No, you're right!" I call back, a wave in my voice as she comes back out in a pair of heeled boots and a long, blue London Fog. "Tell me, Detective, what's the prison sentence for murdering a night of romance with your boyfriend?" With that, I spin around and head for the door, leaving her to follow me for once. I'm flinging her door open as I think up another retort in my head, "Because I'd like to make a citizen's arrest."

"That's _so_ not how that works, Castle."

She just _always_ has to have the last word, doesn't she? We're both striding angrily down the hall of her apartment building to head down to the street and it isn't until I round the corner that she catches up to me at my side. I send her a glare, silently to let her know that I'm frustrated with the situation. It seems to work too well and backfire when I'm met with an angrier glare from her. I still don't know who I'm angrier at; her or us.

The sprinkle of the night air as we step outside seems to bring me back to some of my senses. We just had an off night. It happens, even to the best of couples like ourselves. But… no, this was _our_ night, we both knew that and had it planned and confirmed to spend it together. She should have known that. She practically threw it all in my face and had the nerve to act like I was the one bugging her? I deserve to be the one angry at the other person for once. Even if that person is the woman I'm in love with, I'm allowed to be angry.

Right?

* * *

 _A/N: Thought I'd give writing in first-person a shot. I've written a story in first-person for another fandom which did pretty well, (Not A Soul! If you want to Google it). I always thought that 5x22 would have done a lot more for our favorite couple if the roles were reversed, so… that's what I'm doing. The POV's are going to shift from time to time. The POV's are going to be indicated through wording and dialogue._

 _Thanks for all the ups and support for my writing, especially for those of you who made my last story as successful as it was. I have high hopes for this story as well. Let me know!_ _:)_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: To preface, Erica Vaughn is being cast as Yvonne Strahovski (Or Miranda Lawson from Mass Effect)._

 _She's hot. :)_

* * *

I really wish he was better at hiding his emotions. He's never been very good at it. Up until now, I loved that about him. It was easy to tell what he was feeling. If he was distressed or worried, he couldn't help but wear it on his face. It's also never been that much of a problem, because he's usually calm, happy, albeit distracted by either something he's not allowed to touch or me. And it's been fun now that those two things are no longer the same thing. But now, he's angry. And it's as plain as day who he's angry with.

Me.

This is ridiculous. I've tried to explain that I was on the phone with my cousin and I was being rude enough just cutting her off when I did. All the way over here, but it was like arguing with a nine-year-old. He just wasn't accepting it. Which is weird for him. Usually, all it takes is an apology and a sultry smile to get him to come around. He's taking this whole thing a lot more personal than he normally does. We've had our off nights before. Is it so wrong I wanted a night to relax for once?

He's still brooding out the window by the time I pull up outside the restaurant the body's at and the only thing that he looks at me for is to send me dark glares. We're both getting out when I try, once again, to get him to at least act normal in front of the others. Us being a couple is pretty much out to everyone now that Gates knows, but still... it's weird. I'm used to keeping my private life, you know, private. But with Castle's inability to hide what he's feeling, these professionally trained detectives are bound to pick up on something.

"I'm sorry, Castle. You know how I get when I'm talking with Sofia. I had blinders on."

"Maybe I can borrow them," I say trying to feign a casual joke, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I could sure use them a pair right about now."

"Can we at least _act_ like we're not at each other's throats right now?" I ask him forcefully, briefly tugging at his coat sleeve. Finally, he looks at me with something other than contempt. But now, he's looking at me as if he's drained himself of feelings. I've seen that look before. It hurts because that looks is usually a warning sign that I have to move in and pet away whatever is that's bothering him. I can usually do that because it's usually not me.

But this time, it's me, so... what the hell do I do?

"We have a murder to solve, okay? So... can we just talk about this later?" I try in a softer voice, hoping to convey to him that I really do mean later and not never. Really, I do mean never and I'm hoping that this all just blows over. He's upset and I get that, but we've fought before and made up. At least we can have our normal bout of hot make-up sex when all this is done.

But for the first time, he doesn't answer me and just flings the door to the high-end restaurant and strides inside, leaving me to catch up to him. That hurt. He's angrier than I thought. But I bite it back and catch the door before it closes on me and catch up to him just as he's walking up to the table, where the body of a younger woman is slumped over a table in the center of the room. Castle's taken us to places like this before, but not often, knowing I much prefer comfortable nights in with a few boxes of takeout and his arm open to me.

"Good evening, Dr. Parish!" Castle says broadly. I look over to him and see him smirking widely at her. He's just being insane, now.

"Good evening, Mr. Castle!" Lanie parrots back, holding her clipboard to her chest and smiling over at my partner. At least someone's in a good mood.

"Tell me, Dr. Parish," He starts again, leaning forward, "how would _you_ like an unopened four-hundred dollar bottle of Cabernet, on the house?"

Oh my god, he's not serious. "Castle!" I urge him to stop, looking over to him with wide eyes. Please, don't do this now.

Lanie can pick up his scent a mile away. She was one of the first to pick up on that whole 'glow' thing when I got off suspension. I quickly look over to Lanie to try and silently explain the situation away and to tell her not to ask, but she's already asking by the time I manage to look at her. "Not that I don't love free wine but..."

"Don't ask, Lanie." I warn her. She better not, I swear.

"Tonight, I tried to get a certain someone whose anonymity will remain intact-"

"Beckett," Lanie answers him with a nod in my direction, which I reply to with a roll of my eyes.

"To a very expensive bottle of white wine with a subsequent night of passion, but apparently, she's going through a bit of a wardrobe crisis and didn't have the time."

"Ouch," Esposito introduces himself by Castle's side. I look past my angry boyfriend to gives Espo an angry look, hoping it will work on him to get him to shut up. But it doesn't. "Don't hold your breath though, bro."

"Eh," Lanie interrupts him as she looks over her clipboard, "he could give me a four-hundred-dollar bottle of _toothpaste_ and I'd be fighting the urge to jump his bones."

"I'm _literally_ standing right here, Lanie." Now, I really wish this body would wake up and announce that we actually have a job to do.

"You know, one time," Espo starts again and Castle turns to him, almost pointedly showing me his back, "I went all the way across town to get her a calzone from that place you told me about. Two and a half hours there and back to get her this thing and how does she thank me?" Espo says and looks over to Lanie with pursed lips. "I'm on a diet."

"I, too, feel your pain, Esposito." Castle says, being all too dramatic for being serious about the whole situation. There's part of him that tries to play off when he's really hurting by being humorous, but that's one thing he's good at hiding. Maybe this isn't bothering him as much as I thought it is. Watching him put his hand on Espo's shoulder gives me some sense of hope that he's coming around and that he's not going to dwell on this whole thing too much. "I've been on the receiving end of a blow of ungratefulness more than once."

"Can we not turn this murder investigation into couple's therapy, please?" I remind what seems like the entire room.

"What're you guys talking about?" I hear Ryan chime as he stops in between Lanie and Esposito.

"Beckett blew Castle off tonight." Why is it that this is suddenly everyone's business?

" _And_ a four-hundred-dollar bottle of Cabernet." Lanie continues after Esposito.

"Women, right?" Esposito says, looking over to my increasingly insensitive boyfriend and then over to Ryan.

"Actually, back when Jenny and I were still dating, I brought her some of my lunch I couldn't finish." Ryan smiles proudly. "She was so grateful, she..." He suddenly seems to remember where he is. At least someone remembers we have a murder to investigate. "Anyway..."

"Yeah, yeah... keep it up, Mr. Honeymoon phase." His partner tells him. I can't help but wonder what Castle thinks of that. He's been through that phase. I've always wondered what it's like. We sort of had that no-holds-barred phase during my suspension when we first started dating. God, that was the most passionate few weeks ever.

"Cindy Paralti," Ryan starts, finally getting down to business. I look down to the victim, laying splayed out over the table. "Thirty-five, out here on business. She's an up and coming venture capitalist."

"She was having dinner with a couple of other business associates when she reportedly starting seizing and fell over into her plate." Esposito explains.

"Food must be to die for." Castle cracks. And at that, I can't help but bite back a smile.

"We're still interviewing kitchen staff and running backgrounds, but they all seem clean at first glance."

"Who was she having dinner with?" I ask and see Ryan point with his pen over to a tall blonde woman in a tight, silk, strapless red dress and red stilettoes. But when I see her, I immediately recognize her and feel a part of my stomach twist in anticipation. "Is that Erica Vaughn?"

"Oh, yeah," Espo says in a voice that tells me he noticed her quite clearly.

I see Castle look over to her then back at me. I notice that his hurt seems to have subsided for now. A good mystery to solve always makes him feel better. "You know her?"

"Yeah, she's on my list of people I'd rather be if I get three wishes." I say, exacerbating. I can't believe Erica Vaughn is actually here. I don't get star struck very easily but right now is an exception. "You know she took over her father's company at only twenty-five and almost _doubled_ their profit margin her first year in charge?"

"She's hot too." Esposito groans.

"Okay," I stop Espo's juvenile fantasies and list my hand to him. "I think Castle and I will handle talking to Vaughn. Espo, you and Ryan keep interviewing the kitchen staff. Lanie?"

"I'll get blood work as soon as I can and have a substance for you by the morning." Lanie tells me.

At least Castle seems to have calmed down. Maybe this won't be so bad of a fight after all. Maybe I was wrong and I wasn't _that_ hurt by what happened. He usually lets things like this roll off his back pretty easily. And we've had nights when we're not totally in sync. It happens. We're a couple now, we can have nights where we just don't harmonize. And besides, he knows I love him. Just because I was busy for one night doesn't change that. He knows that I love him. He should get over this whole thing pretty easily. No real need to worry, I guess.

We make our way through the restaurant and over to Erica Vaugh, my heart in my throat in anticipation. There's a pair of uniforms talking to her, but as soon as they see Castle and I coming, they nod over to us and walk away. "Ms. Vaughn," I start as professionally as I can. She raises one side of her brow and softly smiles. I'd _kill_ for that dress. "I'm de-detective Kate Becket," I stumble on my words and fumble for my badge, "and this is my partner-"

"Rick Castle." She finishes for me, her slight south London accent coming through as she says the 'ah' in Castle's name. I can see in her smile that she knows him. His fame doesn't really come up much. But it's always surprising to see what he does when it does come up. Especially now, with someone whose... objectively attractive.

I can practically _hear_ Castle smile. "You know me?" He sounds like a schoolboy. I can't help but notice the way his eyes are sparkling with excitement. But... it's just because he got recognized, that's all.

Erica Vaughn purses her smile and leans off to the side, not even bothering to look at me. "I do have to admit, your novels are a bit of guilty pleasure for me."

" _Guilty_ pleasure?" He seems to challenge her. I suddenly feel like a third wheel, when I'm... well, I'm his girlfriend.

"Well," Vaughn says and leans in just a little too close to him for my liking. Even I can smell her perfume. "If it gets out that I read a book like Hell Hath no Fury, our stock might take a bit of a hit."

I feel my muscles tense at that. I remember vividly what his words were. How quickly he picked up on the fact that I was an avid reader of his work before I even met the artist behind the art. _Only hardcore Castle-groupies read that one._ Great, I'm dealing with a groupie who just so happens to be a billionaire and is standing in front of my boyfriend in a strapless red dress. And he's upset with me. But... no, we're not that couple. He's just flattered that he's getting recognized, that's all. I could show him a picture of Alexis on his phone and get that same look from him, it doesn't take much to get that twinkle after all.

"Well, I think I can keep that secret to myself." Castle says and looks back up to her with a soft smirk.

"Uh..." I try, but fail as my eyes remain on Castle. That look isn't supposed to... nevermind. "Ms. Vaughn-"

"Please, Detective Beckett," She says with a smile, finally looking at me again. "I much prefer Erica. I get enough pestering over miss versus mizz. If I go by either one, the press will have a field day of speculation." She tells me and looks back to Castle and lifts the corner's of her lips, eyeing him. "You must understand after all the times I've seen your name in there."

"The parasites over at page six can be pretty hard to deal with, believe me." He nods. That's always been a slight fear of mine, not only being outed to everyone at work but everyone in New York. I'm always terrified of seeing a picture of us in there. But to this day, I have yet to see one. We've taken enough of us to make up for it, that's just for us.

"I can only relate, Rick." Erica says and lightly brushes his arm with her hand as she waves at him. "What they did to you after your second divorce. Awful thing, that. Going after you like that when they themselves said going to counseling was your idea. I always did find it rather spiteful that your ex-wife sought so much from the settlement. Awful thing."

"You..." I stammer, looking at her, "you remember that?"

She smiles over at me, almost bashfully and shrugs her bare shoulders. "Photographic memory." Great, as if I couldn't hear Castle's child-like excitement buzzing enough, now I have someone with a photographic memory to deal with.

"You have a photographic memory?" There it is. The question he quickly asks for confirmation to go diving in. I know that look in his eyes. There was a time when I used to get that look. I love that look. Just getting to pull and tease him with little tidbits of answers about myself.

"Trust me, Rick," I can't help but bite back a bit of jealousy and a new taste of anger when she calls him that. I usually only call him that in bed when I'm breathing too hard to say the two syllables it takes to say Castle. "It gets to be more of a burden than you might think. Gift more than I curse, as they might say. I mean, what good is remembering the locker combination of the girl next to me in grade seven, 13-45-22?"

Castle laughs and I look over only to see a smile that makes me just a bit uneasy. It's his full smile, where his eyes crinkle at the edges. I'm... I'm just being crazy. He probably dipped into that wine he wanted for us without me looking or something. He knows we're a serious couple, and I know him. I shouldn't even be thinking about this. "Ms... Erica," I correct myself, uneasily. It feels weird calling her that. "Can you tell us anything about what happened tonight?"

Her smile falls and she looks away. Finally, maybe now we can get down to work. Castle's always been very conscious of how and where he looks at other women. It never bothers me that much, mainly because I know the look he gives me. It's a look that's special. Something you can't really explain, just when we click. And granted, we didn't click tonight, but so what? If we had, what... we would have had to finish way too quickly because I had just gotten a call. What then, huh?

"We had just gotten our orders when Cindy and I were discussing our business affairs. We had just started eating when she was cutting another piece of her entree when she started having a seizure and when I looked down, I noticed the waiter had mixed up our orders. I had ordered the quail but he'd mixed up our plates."

"You didn't say anything?" Castle asks her.

"When you grow up around people in the service industry, you tend to sympathize when they're having a rough night. Well... if you have a heart, you do anyway. The restaurant was fairly busy and I didn't want to be a bother, so I let it go."

"So Cindy had gotten your dish?" If the victim got her dish instead of the one she ordered, that means that-

"You were the intended target." Castle says next to me. I look over to him and expect him to be looking over at me, like he usually is when he comes to some sort of conclusion or has some sort of thought. But no, he's still just... looking at her.

Why is it that I feel a tight, uncomfortable tingle in my spine?

Erica nods slowly and looks down to the floor. "I'm having my people fly her family out here as we speak. Cindy was a good person."

"Well," I begin and roll back my shoulders. You have nothing to be insecure about, Kate. This is just another case. "We'll do whatever we can to bring her killer to justice. We will, however, need you to come down to the precinct. If you're right and you were the intended target then the killer might make another attempt."

Erica smiles that almost sultry smile, but points it directly back to my partner, my boyfriend, and seems to shut what I just said out of her mind completely. "If all the exploits I've heard about are true, I should feel perfectly safe." But thankfully, her phone rings in her small clutch purse and it gives her something else to do. "If you'll excuse me."

As she turns away from us and answers her phone, Castle follows me as I slowly make for the door. "If it was poison, the killer might lack confidence."

The killers not the only one. The way she was looking at him, with her... no, he loves me. One night wouldn't change that. We've had our little tiffs before, the fact that we're in love won't change just because of one night when we're not finishing each other's sentences. He's just angry. He's been in love with me for a long time, one night isn't going to make him change his mind. I'm just being paranoid. I had a feeling this would just blow over. I did feel a little bad about ruining his night, but he knows that my family is important to me. I wouldn't have gotten angry if he blew me off because he was on the phone with his mother or something.

It was just one night.

* * *

 _A/N: I'm going to try and follow pretty much the same posting schedule as I did with my last story. A post every day or two with taking some of the weekends off. Fanfiction has a 24 hour turnover, so it can't be less than a day for you to notice._

 _Sorry. :/_


	3. Chapter 3

No texts or voicemails. It would be unusual, but we are already on the case.

I don't know why I'm being so emotionally insecure about this whole thing. It was one night, I'm kind of over it, we can move past it like we always do... without even talking about it. It's bothered me that we pretend like things just don't happen when we both know that the other is thinking about it. I'm already kind of late and chances are, Beckett's been at the precinct all night. She was still there when I left for the night and with no good morning text, she must be wrapped up in casework. And if that's the case, she'll be tired. And when she's tired, she gets cranky. And a cranky Kate Beckett is the equivalent to a furious normal person.

I feel bad for having that thought because it's not really true. Maybe it's just because she usually projects it in my direction. Nevertheless, as her partner and boyfriend, it is my responsibility to perk her up whenever she does get cranky, even if it is with me. No matter what it is we're going through, I have some relationship obligations to maintain, and if I'm going to make it to the precinct on time, I have to leave now so I can pick her up some coffee.

The loft is silent as I'm throwing on a suede jacket over a lighter blue shirt. Mother still must be asleep... or is simply not home. It's kind of a 'don't ask, tell her everything' agreement with her. So, I guess it's a good thing she's not here to notice the slump in my shoulders. The last thing I need right now is her asking what happened, if it had something to do with Beckett, and her gumming up the works more than they already are. There are moments Beckett and I have shared that have haunted us both, probably more so me than her. Like that night in her apartment when she told me and I quote... it was her life and not my personal jungle gym.

Great, I'm reaching into the past to justify being upset with her. I need to forget about this. Boarding that train of thought only ends up in a derailment. Stop, Castle. Just stop.

After forty-five minutes, I'm riding the elevator up to the bullpen of the precinct with two coffee cups in hand, as usual, getting very anxious to see that beautiful smile I'm always rewarded with for bringing her morning coffee. I step out of the elevator before the doors open fully and see the bullpen is already abuzz with movement, ringing phones, and moving paperwork I want no part of.

I only have to stop for a second before I see the familiar bounce of her goddess-esque brunette waves coming out of the kitchen. Her eyes are down to her black folder, looking focused as she moves back to her desk. My heart fluttering as it always does, I move into the bullpen and see her standing at her desk with her back turned to me. I have an image in my mind and a feeling in my hand of what it would feel like to just sneak up behind her, snake my arms around her and pull her in, nuzzling my nose into her hair and feeling her tighten with a bitten back giggle.

But she's always very wary of PDA, especially at work. So, as much I would love to, I decide against it without much effort and greet her. "Good morning, Detective."

She turns around with surprised, wide eyes. But when I look down, I feel a rock drop into my stomach. She already has a cup of coffee in her hand, and from the steam I see rising from the top, it's fresh. "Hey," she tries to smile. "Did you get my text?" She asks and takes what's probably the first sip of her coffee.

"Uh..." Already being emotionally insecure, I can't help but feel that I'm not really needed here. I need to distract myself, I'm going to go on a tailspin if I don't. All because of one stupid night. "N-no, I didn't. I left in a bit of a rush. Why?" I ask her and set my useless cup of coffee I brought her down to her desk.

"Oh, I left some of my jewelry at your place a couple of nights ago. I haven't been over there and was hoping you'd bring it with you." She explains and takes another sip from her mug.

I did notice she left her gold bracelet I bought her for Valentine's day on the dresser. I was going to ask her about it, wondering if she stopped wearing it for some other reason than she just forgot it, but... just decided not to swan dive off that cliff. "Oh... uh, no, I didn't get it. My phone must be on silent or something." I play it off and take a drink from my own cup.

"Well, it's okay. I'll try to swing by there later today. In the meantime, we're pretty much at Defcon one here."

"Yeah, what's with all the commotion?" I haven't seen it this crazy since just after she got shot. It took everything I had to tear myself out of my guilt and come down here to help out with the case as soon as I could... at least that was until I got kicked out.

Beckett nods over to the conference room and holds her coffee mug up to her lips. "Vaughn. She got here about a half an hour ago and has been on the phone ever since. Apparently, Gates is on the phone with the commissioner. With a case this high profile, it's important we arrange security for her."

I chuckle and shake my head, thinking about the kind of security she could probably afford. I wonder if she has one of those luxury nuclear bomb shelter things. I looked into leasing one a while back. "Being a billionaire, she could probably afford an entire military branch. Did you get any suspects?"

"Nothing much," I can see the look in her eyes as she nods over to the murder board and has me follow her over, where Esposito and Ryan are already leaning against his desk. "Some of the kitchen staff mentioned they might have seen someone brush past them just before the time of death, but they can't give us a description. The alley in the back is a blind spot and foot traffic was too heavy on the street to narrow it down."

"Did you ask Vaughn if she has any enemies willing to come after her?"

"No, I haven't gotten the chance." She says and looks darkly over to the conference room. She was excited to get to meet Erica last night. She's more cranky than I thought.

"Hey," Esposito chimes in, "I got first dibs on talking to Vaughn."

Beckett rolls her eyes in typical Beckett fashion. "Esposito," she warns him.

"Sorry, Esposito," I start with a waggle of my brow, raising my cup to my lips. "It's not you she's a fan of."

"Did you see that dress, bro?"

"No," I moan, "no, I didn't."

"Those legs?"

"For days..."

"And the accent?"

"Almost makes me wish we lost the war."

"Guys!" I jump at the sound of Beckett's loud voice. She's looking over between me and Espo with a pinched brow. "Can you stop with the wolf howls and roll up your tongues, please? We have a murder to solve, here." Esposito and I look at each other and I see him shake his head in dismissal and recross his arms. "Now," she starts again slowly, pointedly to forcefully get us back on topic, "has Lanie identified the poison yet?"

"Not yet," Ryan says. "We're waiting on word to come back from the toxicity report. Until then, we're still at square one."

"You two let me know when Lanie gets the blood work back while Castle and I go talk to Vaughn." She tells them with a lecturing voice, raised brow, and wide eyes. Okay, a whole lot more cranky than I thought. "And try not to trip over your tongues. Come on, Castle."

I follow behind her closely as she takes another sip from her coffee mug and sets it down to her desk next to the coffee I had brought her, left untouched and useless to her. It's just coffee, Rick. No big deal. It's not like her morning cup of coffee holds any deep and special meaning to the two of us, it's not like I've been bringing it to her for the past five years expecting nothing in return other than her smile or anything, which seems harder to get out of her. Seems like anyway, like I'm trying harder for the normal things.

Okay, I really need to stop. This is really not the time. And by that, I mean it's never going to be the time. I can't afford to be thinking things like this. I'm just crazy.

Beckett opens up the door to the conference room where Erica Vaughn sits in the chair in the middle on the other side of the table, wearing a much more modest outfit than she was last night, of a designer blue blouse with long, flowing sleeves and a cut deep into her cleavage. Her hair is done stylishly into a loose, curling bun with a pair of bangs dangling in front of her eyes. I make a mental note not to stare. She does look very attractive, but there's only one woman I enjoy being caught staring at. And she's cranky enough as it is.

"Ah," Vaughn says and sets her phone down to the table with a smile and pushes herself up in the chair, "I was just thinking about you."

"Yeah, well, that's nice." Beckett quips and sits down across from her. "Ms. Vaughn, can you think of-"

"Before we begin, Detective," she chimes herself in, looking over to my partner. I'm just going to stand. Beckett and I work as a team, and I know how this part works. Beckett is the direct, straightforward, obvious threat. I'm the distraction that comes in from the side. I just stuff my hands into the pockets of my jeans and start pacing around the table. "I was actually meaning to apologize, but didn't get the chance last night at the restaurant."

I see Beckett lean forward, fold her hands together and narrow her eyes. "For what?"

"Well, I meant to make an appearance at the annual fundraiser you put on for the scholarship Rick had started in your mother's name."

"You know about that?" I ask, smiling honestly for once this morning. I didn't get one out of her, so... might as well get one myself.

Erica smiles over to me. "I was just a few blocks away from the event when I was called away. Fires to put out in Hong Kong. All I could do was send just a bit of pocket change. I had hoped to make an appearance to raise awareness for such a good cause."

"Pocket change?" Beckett chuckles, "How much is that, ten-thousand dollars?" She asks me rhetorically. She knows how much cash _I_ carry around after all.

"A hundred."

Holy crap... that was from her? We did get a lot of donations and it would have been more if it was actually a Beckett giving the speech for the night, but the guests had to settle for me. We managed to meet our goal for the scholarship twice over. At this point, we're both looking at Erica, whose smiling softly over to my partner.

"It's a great cause after all. I never did finish college myself, what with a business to run, but... the Johanna Beckett scholarship is helping a lot of young women. You must be quite proud, Detective."

"C-can we uh..." Beckett starts, and at the sound of her stammering, I look over to her and see her stabbing her pen into her notepad, "Erica, do you know of anyone who might want to kill you? Do you have any enemies?"

Vaughn rolls her eyes with a smirk, waving her hand and crossing her arms. "Please, Detective, if I were to list all the people who'd be willing to kill me, your partner could write a whole nother book."

"Well, I would never say no to another best seller, Beckett." I try and cheer her up with just a touch of humor. But I can tell the moment it doesn't work.

"Can you think of anyone recently? Did you have to make any tough business decisions lately, maybe have to fire someone?"

"You'll have to get in touch with Chloe. She's one of my employment directors. I haven't directly fired someone since September of 04 when I let go one of my assistants who had tried to sell one of our competitors some trade secrets."

"Can you-"

"Daniel Sharp, born in Buffalo to a single mother in July of 84. Scrawny fellow and had some confidence issues, but he was smart and worked hard enough. I haven't seen him since Charles was escorting him out of my office."

"God, I wish I had photographic memory." I think out loud. That would be so cool. Just think how much trouble I could get out of with Beckett if I had a photographic memory.

"If you ask me, Rick, you have some pretty amazing talents of your own." I can feel her smile on me.

"Well, now you've got me blushing." I try and joke. If I had said something like that to Beckett, her face would be engulfed by a smile, one she couldn't pull back. But not today. That hasn't happened in a few weeks. That seems to be a theme to all this. This can't be all I can get out of us, there just has to be more.

I hear Beckett pound her notepad with the back of her pen and close her folder, shooting out of her chair. "That's all we need, Ms. Vaughn."

She's striding out of the conference room and back over to her desk just as I'm closing the door behind me and following her to Gate's office. "Is something wrong?" I ask her, cautiously testing the waters of trying to resolve the situation.

"You know, you could have told me about the fundraiser you had for my mother's scholarship, Castle."

Wait... she's seriously not blaming that on me. She has to remember. "I _did."_ That causes her to look at me with an accusatory glare. "I asked you if you wanted to go and make the speech, but you said no because we were still under wraps as a couple, remember? I brought you a plate of the food we had to your apartment, you remember."

She blinks silently a few times before she says "Right." And with that, she nods and turns back to head to Gates' office. "Yeah, I remember now."

Oh, _now_ you remember about the night you fell asleep under my arm while we were watching a cheesy horror movie and trading comical commentary to make it into a comedy? Now, when I remind her, she remembers the night I picked her up in my arms while she slept and carried her to bed. We haven't had a night like that, a night all to ourselves when it's just us, in a very long time. And what happened last night is seriously not helping. Because now, it seems that she not only doesn't remember the nights we _do_ have, she doesn't even seem to want to have any more of them.

Maybe this really _is_ all I'm getting out of her.

I shake the thoughts away when I see her opening the door to Gates' office. "Vaughn gave us a name and I think it might be worth looking into, Sir."

"Good," the captain begins and takes off her glasses as we stand in front of her desk. "You can run it down while you are at the hotel with her."

"Okay, Sir, we'll head to-"

"No, Detective." We both stop and turn back to her just as Beckett is turned toward me to head out the door. Gates' is looking between the two of us with one of her looks that says we should already know what she's talking about. We never do. "You're staying here while Mr. Castle goes to the hotel with Ms. Vaughn."

I feel my chest tighten. Maybe with me out of her hair, she'll get the crankiness out of her system. "I'm sorry?" She asks on a disbelieving chuckle.

"Ms. Vaughn wants Mr. Castle and _only_ Mr. Castle to be her protective detail at the hotel until this case is closed."

"She _can't_ be serious. She's a person of interest in an active murder investigation. Since when does she-"

"Detective Beckett, I just spent over an hour on the phone with the commissioner and he wants all of Ms. Vaughn's demands met."

"Sir, you can't let this happen. Vaughn doesn't have a say in this."

"Detective, if she doesn't want out protection, she doesn't have to take it, and besides..." Gates smiles and lids her gaze as she points over to me with her glasses. "I am _not_ his boss. Now, if she was demanding you stay with her, I might have a say in the matter. But Mr. Castle," she says and looks over to me. My shoulders just got a lot stiffer. "The mayor did call and say that it's in your best interest to follow these orders."

"Not that I don't hate being singled out like this, but... Sir, I'm not really a cop, so..."

"Ms. Vaughn told us that with all the times she's read about you saving Detective Beckett's life over the years, she would feel perfectly safe if you were to stay with her. Now, Erica Vaughn is headed back to the hotel now and you're going with her while Detective Beckett stays here and works on the case. Is that clear?"

I can hear Beckett's sigh and even feel it crawl up my spine as that crankiness shifts into frustration. One more level and she's up to angry. One level above that and she's pissed off. "Crystal, Sir."


	4. Chapter 4

This is completely absurd. Since when the hell does the victim of a crime get to dictate how we do our job? Who does this lady think she is?

"So," He says to me from behind, "I guess I'll head to the hotel, then?"

There's hesitation in his voice, but that better not be the only thing he has hesitation in. I saw the way she was looking at him, the way she was smiling and waggling her eyebrows at him, throwing compliments at him so hard they probably left bruises. I'm mad at everything right now. If we were in a better place in our relationship, if last night had never happened, I would be telling him to meet me in that supply closet off the locker room downstairs to vent this jealous possessiveness.

I know I can't really blame Castle for any of this. He's just being his charming, joking, smiling, very ruggedly handsome self. He even wore his lighter colors today. He knows I love it when he wears the lighter colors, especially that particular light blue button up he's in and that tan suede jacket. That's always been one of my favorites. I know that he's an amazing man, and I know that I'm not the only woman out there who can see it. But what most women see, I've always prided myself on seeing past all that; the money, fame, books, success.

I was always safe in knowing it was special with me because I could see past all that bravado he puts on and see what's underneath. But Vaughn...

"Beckett?"

"Huh?" It's just now that I realize I was zoning out. This case is going to be torture. I look back over to him and he has that look he has when he's wondering what he should do, like he's asking my permission to simply continue doing what he's doing. "Yeah... I don't know what makes her think she can just decide things like that, but okay."

I see him nod as I pretend I'm busy with paperwork I haven't even filled out on my desk. "She probably just wants to keep a low police presence."

Yeah _right! "_ I'm sure that's the only thing she's thinking right now, Castle." I hope to god he knows the tone I'm using. I really don't want to have to outright tell him I'd rather not give her any protection whatsoever rather than send him. The last thing I need my boyfriend, who is probably still mildly upset with me over what happened last night, alone with a woman who could probably get _literally_ any man she wants on the face of this earth.

"It's not _that_ crazy, Beckett." He says to me and takes another step toward me, shuffling his feet. I stand back up and turn to him, planting a hand on my hip and giving him an obvious look. I seriously don't need to remind him that he's a writer, do I? "I mean, I _have_ saved your life a handful of times over the years. "

"Yeah, so have I, Castle. You don't see her pulling any strings to get to shack up with _me,_ do you?"

"Well, in her defense, they do kind of need you here to-" he cuts himself off when I lower my gaze and bite the inside of my lip, "... solve the case?"

I'm not angry at him, and I know that he thinks I am. I've always wondered why he always takes on so much so quickly without even letting me explain, or even asking for an explanation at all. I can tell by the way his eyes are pulling away from me in worry that he thinks this is somehow his fault. "You're not," he starts softly and turns into me, close enough to where I can smell his cologne, "thinking what I hope you're not thinking, are you?"

I really can't get into this now. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vaughn stand up in the conference room and is heading for the door. I look back over to him and put a smile on my face, mostly to end the conversation quicker. "No."

He keeps his eyes on me for a moment before he nods in a small motion and steps away, out of my personal space. There's a tug-of-war going on in my heart though. When I see Vaughn coming toward the door, I just want to grab him and yank him back into my personal space, mark him as my own, leave his hair disheveled and his collar crocked and his eyes hazy. It might get her to back off, at least. But the moment has passed by the time the door to the conference room is opening. Castle turns with his hands still tucked in his pockets.

"Sorry for the wait. I was just finishing up the details on the trust I opened up for Cindy's children." Oh, all bow before the new Saint Cleavage. Give me a break.

"That's awfully generous of you." Castle practically glows next to me... even though he knows I'm standing a freaking foot away from him. He's... he's just being nice.

"Well, Cindy was an up-and-comer, I want to make sure her family is taken care of. I do feel awful that this happened to her, especially when it was meant to be me." What sickens me is... she sounds honest. It would be one thing if I could taste a hint of dishonesty in her voice, that she's just putting on a show to impress Castle, but... "The least I could do is make sure her kids never want for anything, right?"

"We'll catch whoever did this." He smiles and looks over to me. "Detective Beckett is the best you could hope for."

There's just the look I need right now. That cute, prideful, almost puppy dog look that he gives me when he's bragging on my behalf. I hope it's enough of a clue to tell little miss charity that we're in a relationship, but... then again, something tells me she wouldn't care if she knew that was the case. Hell, that's probably why she asked for him and only him, to begin with.

"If she's anything like her alter-ego, I'm sure the case will be closed in no time."

Not soon enough, I assure you.

"Shall we go, then?" Vaughn perks up. I see my boyfriend look over to me one last time with pursed lips.

"My living will is all in order so, I guess so." He shrugs. He knows I'm upset with this situation, he has to know how I feel about this. He can't be that dense. He's usually very empathetic when it comes to me, or anyone else. It's one of the many things I'm crazy about, but he seriously can't think that making jokes for her is somehow going to make me feel any better.

But even still... this is a dangerous situation. Despite our relationship woes, whatever they may be, and despite my firey, angry, hot jealousy making me want to unholster my carry piece, Castle is putting his life on the line. And it's not me this time. I won't be there to save him like I usually am. So, knowing this, I catch him by the sleeve just before I see him readying to step away from the side of my desk. "Hey."

He stops and looks over to me with a raised brow. But something about his eyes... they aren't looking at me like they usually do. I'm probably just crazy, but... they're just not as bright as they usually are.

"Be careful, okay?"

It's just when I'm starting to see a smile tease the edge of his lips that I hear her voice piercing the moment between us. "If the exploits I've read are true, I'm sure I'll be in the safest hands I could hope for, Detective."

That catches his eye, and once I see him look over to her, I feel my heart drop. I know all of his looks. I've spent years studying them, and the past year together I've spent getting lost in them. I know how he looks at me, I know the certain twinkle and excited glimmer he saves just for me. Why am I seeing it when he looks at her?

He steps away from my desk and falls into step with Erica, her blonde hair bouncing with way too much pep and her heels feeling like their stabbing me as she follows Castle to the elevator. And as I watch them make the turn around the wall, I feel an insecurity I've never felt before, telling me that I'm losing him. Like all she needs is just one minute alone with him and he'll be under her spell and I'll be left with nothing other than the pieces of the broken remains of the best relationship I've ever been in. She's Erica Vaughn.

Erica... Vaughn.

Why am I being so insecure about this? Why am I so worried? Our relationship has evolved past this. We're in love now. He knows that. He knows how much he means to me. Just because we weren't totally getting along last night, and maybe weren't exactly clicking when he got here this morning, doesn't mean that he wants to just give up on us. I'm worried over nothing. Castle's an amazing, loyal guy. I'm just stressed because I couldn't get any sleep... or something.

Slowly, I sit down in my chair and pull myself up to my desk, but when I look down, something hits me when I see the cup he had set down. But whereas it usually brings a smile to my face, this time it's breaking my heart. Even now, after all this time, he still brings me coffee. He still brings me a cup of coffee every morning just to see me smile. And my heart is only breaking because the cup of coffee I was drinking out of is sitting right next to it. My hand trembles as I reach out to pick up his cup. He's only gone for two seconds and I'm already missing him like crazy... like I've already lost him.

Snap out of it, Kate. You two are better than this. He wouldn't do that to me over one night where I blow him off, _which_ I apologized for.

The ringing of my desk phone gives me something else to focus on, even though my eyes can't leave the plastic lid of the coffee he brought me this morning. "Yeah?"

"Hey, it's me." Lanie says.

"What's up?"

"I got the blood work back. I have something for you."

"I'll be right down." I slur and hang up my phone, draining all my energy. Maybe I need this coffee after all. I can usually go a night without sleeping and have no trouble. But this whole thing with Vaughn is taking more of my energy than I thought. I let out a long sigh, brush my hair back, and take a long sip from the cup he brought me, just as he always does. And it tastes as good as it always does, but somehow, it stays on the back of my tongue bitterly. So we aren't finishing each other's sentences for once. That doesn't mean our entire relationship is doomed.

We're more than that. He knows that.

Like a zombie, I march down to the morgue and push open the doors. "What've you got, Lanie?" I ask, hoping to get right down to business.

But as always, the second Lanie looks at me, she sniffs it out of me and starts poking. "What happened?"

I'm rolling my eyes by the time I'm at the examining table. "Nothing I feel like talking about." I say, hoping for once to end it there and take another sip from the cup he brought me.

"So _something_ happened." She points out.

"If by _something,_ you mean Vaughn asking for a private detail consisting of my boyfriend at a five-star penthouse suite, alone until this case is over, then yes. Something happened." I really don't want to get into this now. I'm angry and torn up about this enough as it is. I don't even have the bracelet he got me for Valentine's day on today. I've been kicking myself for forgetting it. I stare at it almost every day, remembering how he snuck it onto my wrist the night after I gave up that drawer.

"Wait," Lanie says and puts down her paperwork, signaling that she is indeed getting into it, "Vaughn wants _Castle_ to be her protective detail?"

"Yes, so I'd like to get this case solved before she offered to pay for Alexis' college tuition in exchange for taking off his pants."

"Now, what the hell is that supposed to mean, Beckett?"

" _God,_ you should have seen her, Lanie!" I seethe. "Oh, you have so many amazing talents, you're so great, why don't I pull my shirt down just a bit more while I go on about how much of my money I give away." I mock. I've wanted to get that out.

"You're not worried about Castle actually trying something, are you?" Lanie asks.

An uncomfortable twinge hits my spine when she asks me that, and I feel vulnerable. He was really upset with me last night. And to top it all off, Vaughn did fawn all over him pretty hard. "It's not Castle I'm worried about, it's her. The only thing stopping her from drooling all over him was my gun."

"Would this have anything to do with your little lover's spat at the crime scene last night?"

"It was _not_ a spat, okay?!" I defend, but I know Lanie. It usually works with Castle, but raising my voice to Lanie doesn't shake her. All she does is cock her hip and purse her lips challengingly. I roll my eyes and take back my words. "Okay, fine, there was _one_ night when we weren't finishing each other's sentences and I was busy with something else. I apologized and we moved on."

"Sure doesn't seem like it."

"Lanie, it was one night, okay?"

"Then why are you so worried about him being alone with Vaughn?"

"Because it's _Erica... Vaughn!_ She can have anyone she wants."

"Girl, Castle is so crazy about you, I'm surprised he hasn't been committed yet."

"That's not the point, Lane!"

"Will you give him just a little credit?" Lanie keeps on defending. Maybe she's right, maybe I just need to have a bit more faith in him. After all, he knows that I love him. We've said it, he should know. "Castle may make an ass out of himself sometimes, but at the end of the day, he's a great guy."

"He's an incredible guy, Lanie." I breathe, my voice dripping with emotion. I wish I could have said that to him instead of Lanie. I wanted him to hear that. "Yesterday, I was in the best relationship of my life. We have one off night and suddenly, I feel like I'm losing him."

"One night can ruin a relationship, Kate." Lanie fights me. "Just look at me and Javi."

"You and Esposito did _not_ break up over one night, Lanie." I fight back. I know the story and it was not one off night between them.

"No, but once we started fighting about that one off night, we started fighting about the rest of our relationship that we never bothered to talk about. Now, I know you, Kate. You wouldn't be having this much of a fit if you two were on the same page with your relationship." She challenges me.

But this time, she's crazy. "He knows I love him, Lanie." But with the look she's giving me, the raise of her brow and the tucking in the corners of her lips, I'm having to ask myself, "he... he _does_ know that, right. I mean... he has to know how much I love him."

"Well, have you told him?" She shrugs.

"He... we've said our 'I love you's'," I answer. But... no, he can't just _not_ know that I'm love with him. Just because I blow him off for one night can't make him think that I don't love him more than anything, because I do.

"Girl, Castle may be a writer, but even he needs words every now and then. And you should know that a guy like Castle doesn't come around twice."

But I know what she's trying to say. "A-are you seriously suggesting that I'm taking him for granted?"

Lanie softens the blow by lifting her hands and softening her expression. "All I'm saying is that you may be just a bit used to being Castle's center of attention. And I may not be the only one noticing there's just a bit more take and a little less give on one side, is all." That sends a cold shutter into my heart. He can't think that. He just can't think I'm not crazy about him.

And right now, all my physical energy is focused on keeping my eyes from burning, blinking back the sting I feel in the back of my eyes. "It was just one night."

* * *

 _A/N: Love the response I'm getting. I hope you guys agree that a role reversal would have fit so much better into canon. I really don't know what the writers of the show were hoping to accomplish with the characters in the original episode._


	5. Chapter 5

I have to admit, this place is beautiful. I've stayed here a couple of times, but never the penthouse. The reservation list is a mile long. Not exactly the place I'd pick if my main objective was to protect someone, but I can't really knock her sense of style, if not just wanting to worry about being hunted by a psychopath in the lap of luxury. The picture windows are huge, the city must look amazing at night. The blinds are drawn on them for now. The furniture isn't exactly my taste, not something I'd have in the loft, but nice.

I'm still following Vaughn inside, slowly pacing my way into the penthouse with my stomach in an anxious knot. She's right at home, I can tell. The way her arms swing with her shoulders and fall into tempo with her stride, she's comfortable with this whole situation. The ride over was silent, but I could tell by the way she was giving me sideways glances that she wanted to say something. But for now, I'm closing the door to the penthouse.

If she's as smart as I'm thinking she is, she knows my mind is on something else. I hope to god that she doesn't ask, but I have a quip and a well-prepared smirk ready to go if she does.

I gave her a chance, one chance to open up to me and tell me what was really bothering her. I wanted her to be honest with me. I wanted her to tell me that she didn't want me here because she's just that invested in our relationship. I wanted her to just say what she was feeling, for once since I've known her, I wanted her to tell me how she felt without our lives hanging in the balance. I just wanted a chance to be there for her in more of a capacity than a body shield. Just one chance to be an actual boyfriend and be there for her.

I gave her a chance to show me her vulnerabilities, but she threw me off... like she always does. She said that she wasn't worried and that nothing was wrong. She told me once that her walls were coming down and for a while, I believed her. But I'm finally starting to realize that the only thing on the other side of that wall was another wall, taller than the one I just climbed over. We may keep each other warm on nights when our schedules line up, but this whole thing, especially last night, is making me think that I've been wrong all these years.

Maybe a warm body is all she wants.

"I don't think I'll feel very safe if you don't make yourself at home, Rick." Her subtle south London accent says from the kitchen.

I look over, flushing all my thoughts away, and feel myself stiffen. She's being far more casual than I anticipated. She smirks at me from the other side of the bar and holds my gaze for a long moment before she turns back around to the cupboards. "If you don't mind my asking, Ms. Vaughn-"

"Do you like wine, Rick?" She interrupts.

"U-uh... I'm sorry?" I chuckle nervously. This woman is something unexpected.

She turns back around with two wine glasses in hand and that same shadowy smirk. "To be honest, I've never really liked wine, myself."

I twinge my brow and start pacing toward the kitchen, a good distance away. I'm trying to put as much distance between us as I can without outright being rude. "Don't you own a mansion in the UK with one of the largest wine cellars in the country?"

She smiles widely and laughs as she sets the two glasses down. Begrudgingly, I do have to admit that it feels nice to make an attractive woman laugh. It feels like it was easier to get something like that out of Beckett in the past. But then again, everything seems like it's required just a bit more effort than it used to with her. So yeah, it feels good to have a woman smile and laugh like that over just one little thing I say.

"The one thing about being rich is we quite enjoy one-upping each other. Between you and me, I've hardly spent any time at all in that place." She explains as she comes back to the counter with a large bottle of wine.

"Then why'd you buy it?"

"Because the look on J.K. Rowlings face when I outbid her was _priceless."_ I feel myself smiling at that one. I can only imagine. Patterson is always throwing out off-handed quips about how much richer he is than me, I would _love_ to outdo him just once in my life. And when I feel the smile still on my face, the next thing I feel is her eyes on me. I look back up to her, willing the smile to fade, and see her holding a familiar bottle on her hands... the same wine I had intended to share with the woman I love just last night. "Wine?"

My heart squeezes in my chest when I see the label. It brings back too many lingering doubts and painful letdowns. "I-I'm uh... actually more of a Scotch guy."

"I was hoping you'd say that." She says and puts the wine back and pulls down a bottle of Black Grouse. "Speaking of, you were saying something before?" She asks me while pouring two small glasses.

"Oh," I was, wasn't I? With a bottle of Black Grouse, I'm in for making a few mistakes if I don't keep my head. "I was just wondering why you chose me for a protective detail, Ms. Vaughn."

"Erica, Rick. Please, call me Erica. I feel old enough as it is without the prefixes."

"Well, you're going to need a lot more than that to look it." That... slipped out. A gentleman's slip-up of trying to pay a compliment. It isn't until she's reaching over the bar to hand me a glass with another smokey looking smirk. "As I was saying..."

She gives me a small, one-sided shrug and lifts her glass to her lips. "I've heard the stories. You've accomplished some pretty daring feats of bravery over the past few years, Rick."

Great, a beautiful woman follows _my_ career for a change. Either way, I'm going to end up having too much of this scotch or not nearly enough to make it through this. And after a long swig, I suck my teeth and look back over to her. "Such as?"

"Well," She starts and moves around the bar, dragging her manicured nails along the granite surface, "there was the incident I read about with the bombing. Where you ran into the flames to pull a detective from her apartment."

Dunn... I remember that. "Actually... that one was kind of my fault, if you think about it." She keeps slowly moving around the bar, but puts her eyes on me again, pulling the words out of me. "It was me who inspired the killer by writing Nikki Heat in the first place, so... running into a burning building was about the least I could do, I guess."

She wags her brow at me while I remain glued to my spot in the middle of the penthouse, willing both for my glass to fill back up and for her to not come any closer. "Then I did hear from a few sources about something concerning a... nuclear bomb in Manhattan that you managed to disarm?"

"A dirty bomb and..." I stop myself and can just imagine the look on Beckett's face as I just spew all of this out. "I'm not exactly sure if I'm allowed to talk about that one."

"Well, Manhattan is still standing so, I can guess the ending then." She says and slowly walks along the other side of the bar before turning and leaning back. "And of course, there was the time I heard about you trying to jump in front of a bullet for your partner... Detective Beckett."

I don't know how she knows about that one, I was very clear in any news source not to mention me, to make it about her and not me. Even the news articles I remember reading said that a bystander tried to intervene, but failed. And with the look she's giving me, I'm giving away the fact that I don't know how she knows about it.

"I have a secretary dedicated to keeping up with Gossip news, Rick."

Figures.

Well, no use trying to throw this one off. She knows I tried to get to Beckett that day. Can't help but wonder what else she knows. "Yeah, well... I just did what anyone else would have done, really." I shrug it off with a smirk. "Just saw the glint from the scope and... and reacted on instinct."

She nods slowly and crosses her legs, leaning back on the bar with her arms outstretched along the length of the counter. "And following your instincts is exactly what I'm doing. I figured with you here and an unmarked detail guarding the entrance, I'm in the safest of hands. After all, you've been protecting Detective Beckett all these years and she seems fine."

"Wha-uh..." I stutter, but... she can't really be comparing herself to Beckett, can she? "I-I don't really mean to sound insulting, but... she _is_ a trained homicide detective."

"And the best one, at that, correct? So, with you here and her out catching whoever's behind this, I'm sure I'll be just fine." She's really trying to sell me on this idea, isn't she? I don't want to just come out and say I'd much rather be here with the woman I love trying to get that smile and that laugh out of here, no matter how hard she makes me work for it. I don't have it in me to be an ass hole just for the sake of being an ass hole. It doesn't feel right when people are upset with me.

So, I simply smile and give her a nod and watch her as she takes the last sip from her glass and pushes off the counter of the bar. "I'm humbled by that, Ms... Erica."

"So," She puts a different tone in her voice when she says that, like she actually wants to have a conversation and actually cares about what I have to say, and before I know it, she's taking my empty glass from my hand and moving around to refill it, "working with the police, helping solve real murders, especially being such a proficient of fictional ones, must be a dream come true getting to help the NYPD."

"Well, my dream of being Luke Skywalker never really panned out like I'd hoped, so I guess I'll take what I can get."

She laughs brightly again while pouring two more glasses. "Your dream was to be Luke Skywalker?"

"Wasn't everybody's?"

"And how long did that last?"

"I don't know, what time is it?" I ask and check my watch. And when I hear her laugh again, the doubts and insecurities I have in the back of my mind start to fade. I'm conscious of it, but being around someone who just decides to smile and laugh at the jokes I make instead of rolling her eyes and trying to fight a smile is nice. I mean, I love it when Beckett fights her smiles around me and what I say because it's adorable, but knowing how breath-taking she is when she doesn't fight it and just smiles, sometimes I wish she just wouldn't fight it so much... or me, come to think of it.

"Well, that's the point of a dream, I suppose." She says and reaches over the bar again to hand me my glass back. This is one of my favorite brands. "That it's a fantasy. I mean, people tell me I'm 'living a dream' in what I do."

"Aren't you? One of the most successful women in the private sector, a know a lot of women who'd kill to be where you are."

"Does that mean you have a suspect?" She cracks with a smirk.

I chuckle, because it sounds like something I could hear Beckett saying. I guess it's a good thing I'm keeping her in my mind through all this. It might help ease my guilt for letting myself get into this situation, to begin with. "No, really, you're a-"

"A what?" She stops me, throwing her arms out to her sides with that same shadowy smirk. "A 'feminist icon'? Someone for young girls to aspire to when most of the time I'm working from the time I get up to the time I go to bed? If you want the truth, this is the most time off I've had since I dropped out of junior business college just before dear old Daddy passed away."

"That's uh... unexpected, coming from someone like you. I thought you'd be more proud of everything you've accomplished. Everyone else seems to be, anyway."

"You've been talking to career women, Rick." She says with a wave of the hand that has her scotch in it and rolls her eyes. She takes a small sip and leans forward on her arm. "Those women who dedicate themselves to a career, then act like it's society's fault that they're hitting menopause and have nothing to show for it but an empty apartment full of old power heels and a half empty glass of wine."

All I can do is nod, knowing what she's saying. I don't know where I'd be who what kind of jackass I'd be if I didn't have Alexis. I miss the days when it was just me and her, when I'd pick her up from school and she'd smile, run up to me and throw her arms around my waist yelling 'Daddy!'. I love being a writer but I'd give up being a writer way before I gave up being a father. "I guess I know what you mean." I tell her and look down into the scotch in my hand.

"It's probably all for the best, anyway." She says in a low, admitting tone. "After all, I don't really know if I have it in me to be a family woman. With any luck, I'd probably wind up going through something like you did with Ms. Harper."

My heart shooting up into my throat, I look up to her with narrowed eyes. "I-I'm sorry?"

She stares over to me for a long few seconds with a softness in her smile before shaking her head. "I always did think it was abhorrent the way they went after the way they did for suing for full custody." I'm defenseless, I'm vulnerable, and I _really_ don't like it. This woman has been spying on me, I swear. "I mean, _she_ was the one who had the affair. The way they can justify her running out on her own family was despicable, even for the gossip news journalists."

"I had my reasons, okay?!" I didn't mean it to come out like that. I remember that time in my life after she left, it's a time I carry with me even to this day. The only thing that got me through any of it was Alexis, and I was being demonized for wanting to raise her myself, headlines saying that I was stealing a woman's child away when _she_ was the one that filed for divorce and left.

Erica seems to quickly gauge my reaction and nods. She looks away as she quickly comes around to the other side of the bar. "I apologize, Rick, I... I guess I had thought those scars had healed. I guess some things never do, but... if it's any consolation," she says and stops in front of me, "she probably didn't deserve you in the first place."

It's when she passes me and puts a hand on my arm that I feel myself lock up at the contact. A cold sweat breaks out underneath my clothes and I follow the sound of her heels going across the penthouse and into the open door to the bathroom. It's over, she's going to the bathroom, I have time to collect myself. But when I hear the shower turn on, I look over just in time to see her back in the mirror, taking her shirt off.

I quickly look away and down the rest of my scotch.

I feel completely twisted up. Beckett and I are on the rocks right now, I just had my first divorce thrown in my face, I just finished my second glass of scotch, and there's a woman taking a shower with the door open. I just need to see her face, even if it does make all the doubts and worries I have about us bubble back up to the surface, I just need to see her. Digging out my phone, I quickly move to the photos and click on the first one I see. I have a lot of them. It's one of us at my birthday party, her smiling unreserved with her eyes sparkling and her face split in two by happiness, me kissing her cheek. You can even tell that I'm smiling in this one.

But that couple seems so far away right now. That isn't us anymore. I wish more than anything it was, back before I was so worried about our future, back when it was easy to convince myself she really was in love with me simply by the way she looks in pictures like these. But then again, there never has been a time when she's told me how she feels about me when her life wasn't in peril.

Just more walls to scale. It's always the same. Maybe it always will be.


	6. Chapter 6

Finally, I get a chance to go back to the loft. I have the boys running down a lead we managed to get from mail room down at Vaughn's building. It seems they screen any mail she gets addressed to her and file threats. There was a string of letter's written anonymously starting in January of 05 from just a few months ago. I have Esposito and Ryan trying to get something off the postage mark and tracking it down. It's all I can do to quit their bickering about why it wasn't one of them Vaughn chose for her detail.

Just thinking about that woman, thinking about her smiling at my boyfriend and fluttering her eyelashes at him all while fawning all over him the way she was at the precinct, bragging about how much she donated to my mother's scholarship, it's tearing my insides apart. And I know the way he is, the way he always seems to smile unless something happened to upset him, the way those baby blue eyes of his just seem to sparkle at you in such a way that makes the rest of the world fall away.

At least that's the way it is with us.

"Oh, you're books are a guilty pleasure for me, Rick." I mock out loud as I dig out my keys and stop in front of his door. That broad is so insufferable, I swear. I'm unlocking his door and heading inside as I continue. "That better be the only pleasure you get out of him, you lime-sucking, blonde-haired-"

Embarrassed, I stop when I see Martha standing in the kitchen. And I can clearly tell that she just heard everything I said.

"Martha."

She smiles and fans out her arms toward me. "Katherine," she's always so happy to see me, or at least greets visitors with a certain warmness that makes the loft just seem more inviting. "I wasn't expecting you here at this hour. I thought Richard left for the precinct hours ago."

I've never really let Martha in on how I should feel our relationship should be like now that I'm dating her son. Martha is a great caretaker and loves her family deeply, but I'm aware enough about their situation to know she has regrets about the way she raised Rick. I've heard enough tidbits from his childhood to know it's a time of loneliness for him. He's never told me about it, about what it was like to be raised by babysitters and nannies while she was performing. I know he's very invested in raising Alexis and would go to any lengths he has to to keep her safe.

But still, he seems to hide it well behind that smirk and his humor... just like she said he did.

"Actually, I was just stopping by to get something." I point out as I'm closing the door behind me. Martha 'ah's and nods, looking back down to the counter where she's preparing herself lunch. "We were called on a case last night and it's another high profile."

"Last night?" She asks and stops, giving me an arched brow. "I do hope it didn't cut into your night together."

My heart stops when she says that. She knows about that? "You know about that?"

Martha smiles and keeps on making her sandwich. "Of course, I had to put him in touch with an old friend of mine from my days on the road who's a sommelier in his retirement. It took him a few calls to get ahold of that Cabernet. He was so excited about it, I do hope you two had the chance to enjoy it before duty called."

I... I really had no idea. I mean, he knows I prefer a red wine as opposed to white, but if I'd known he'd gone to those kinds of lengths for a night in together for us... come to think of it, it's been a while since we've had a night like that. I haven't been off call in weeks and people won't stop killing each other. I smile a very heavy, tiring smile and look away. "Actually, we got called out before we could." I lie... blatantly.

"Well, that's too bad." Martha answers simply, being all too naive of what really took place last night. "Maybe after this case is done, you two can take a night for yourselves." She shrugs, and she's right. We do need some time to ourselves. We don't get nearly enough of it. "So, what's this all too important case?"

Like I want to talk about how we're charged with protecting one of the richest runway models of the business world who wants the man I love to be her protective detail, especially with his mother. "Someone uh..." I start slowly, picking and choosing my words carefully as I meander toward the kitchen. I was just supposed to get in, get my bracelet, and get out. "Someone tried to poison Erica Vaughn last night."

Martha stops on her way to the fridge with a head of lettuce in her hand. " _The_ Erica Vaughn?"

I have to stop my eyes from rolling midway and try to hide the motion under my hair. "Yeah... _the_ Erica Vaughn." Even the same tastes bitterly sour on my tongue. Because all I can see when I say it is him walking toward the elevator with her at his side, with my heart feeling as if he'd just walked straight out of my life. "She's under guard at a hotel while we track down who tried to kill her."

Martha is slow to nod this time, seeming like she's mulling over the answer I gave her before letting her eyes fall off of me. "Well, hopefully, Richard's insights into the- world of the rich and famous will prove to be of use."

"Yeah, 'cause it's his insight she's after." I let myself mutter under my breath.

"What's that, darling?"

I was _really_ hoping she wouldn't hear that, and I _really_ can't afford to get into it right now. At least not with Martha. I'm still recovering from my talk with Lanie about it. I look up to her and throw her a smile to try and throw her off the scent. "It's nothing, Martha. I should-" I point over my shoulder, "grab what I need and head back to the precinct."

Martha lifts her hands to me with a smile, "You're at home here, Katherine. Don't let me keep you."

Quickly, I disappear into his office and then into his bedroom. But briefly, I get a flash and a shiver in my body when I reach the threshold of his bedroom, thinking back to that stormy night last year, leading him by the hand after still having the earth shaken under me by his lips on me for the first time. God, that was the most incredible night of my life. Being in his arms for the first time, feeling his body engulf me, it was more than I was ever prepared for. The first time I've felt I was making love to someone, that it wasn't just sex, but an expression of us.

And while I'm staring at the perfectly made bed, I can't help but think and fantasize what it would have been like if I hadn't blown him off last night. Would it have been as incredible as that first night? More incredible? Would I have gotten so wrapped up in him and my emotions that I tell him I love him again, like I did the night after he saved me from that bomb? Would I still have these insecurities about losing him if I hadn't been on the phone and we actually had that night of passion like he'd hoped for? What would have happened if I'd actually been paying attention?

By this time, my eyes fall on his nightstand, where he has a digital picture frame, slowly fading through pictures... and they're all of us. I mentioned I wanted to get one but never got the chance. We've taken a lot of pictures together over the course of this relationship and neither of us has room for all the frames it would take to fit them all. The first one I have a chance to really take in is one he took of us at his birthday party. We were so happy that night, so proud of one another and in love. You can tell that he's struggling to kiss me on the cheek he's smiling so brightly under his lips pressed against my bright smile. Whenever I smile like that, it always seems to be around him, and more surprising, it always looks and feels honest.

That couple in that picture was the happiest couple you could find anywhere on the planet.

And that couple is us.

Lanie's accusing me of not letting him know how much I love him. Well... what was that night then? Meaningless? He even told me he never had someone do anything like that for him before. And his reaction that night was all I really wanted, his happiness and his smile. For all that work I did, that's all I wanted out of it. The happiness he's showing in that picture still on the screen of the frame. He was so miserable and lonely that I just wanted to do something special and something he'd love.

I feel my eyes burn when I have this next thought... that I even knew him so well that he'd race to my rescue, even with a broken leg and hobbled by crutches, that he'd still dash to come save me as fast as he could. I knew he would and didn't really think anything of it at the time. But now that I am... maybe Lanie was right. Maybe I'm just so used to him being my partner and expecting that out of him that I'm taking for granted what it means to have a man care like that about me. I've never really had that.

Even with all my walls and my problems with connecting with someone, he stayed.

And I'm losing the one man that ever been that for me because I couldn't see it.

Swiping at the bottom of my eyes, I stand up and quickly move toward the dresser. I remember leaving my bracelet here after I took a shower. It was right here, next to his picture of him and Alexis. But it's not. The nightstand on my side, no. The nightstand on his side, no. The chair, the cushions, on the counter in the bathroom, no. Now, I'm getting frustrated. The housekeeper must've moved it. The first drawer in his vanity, the top right, is the one where I know he keeps all his little bits of flare and jewelry. I've never been in it before, I've never really had a reason to before now.

But it's the only real place it would belong here.

So, I open it up and scan the items quickly. An old class ring with a red stone, a few wrist watches, cuff links, a small silver pen, and- ah, there it is! It's stuck in the back, and when I pull the drawer open a little more to grab it, my fingers touch what feels like a box. With my bracelet already in my hand, I take the small felt box in my fingers and pull it out.

Oh, my god.

My heart drops at the sight of this small, black, felt box because I know exactly what it is. I can just feel it.

"Katherine?"

My body jolts and the next thing I know, my hand is stuffed into the pocket of my coat and I'm shoving the drawer closed with my elbow as Martha pokes her head into the bedroom. I lift my trembling lips into a smile. "Yeah?"

"I don't suppose you have some time for lunch? I can make you something, if you like?"

"A-actually, I-I uh... I have to go." My shaking legs quickly move through his bedroom and out the side door into the foyer. "Duty calls, after all."

* * *

This is the only thing I can do right now that can vent this anger, that's legal anyway.

I slap my second magazine into my Glock with enough force to load the first round without hitting the release, don't bother actually aiming, and squeeze the trigger until I hear the click of the magazine being empty. Going through the motions, I hit the release, let it fall down to the table, and slap another one in, doing the seventeen shots all over again. The bullets are spent in less than ten seconds. When I feel the trigger click again, I angrily pound my gun down to the table and rip off my headphones and safety glasses.

I've never been this angry, directionless because I don't want to direct it inwardly, on myself, where it belongs.

"What'd that silhouette ever do to you?" Lanie startles me from behind.

I spin around with wide eyes and see her standing a few feet from the door and with a pinch in her brow. "Lanie, what... what are you doing down here?"

"The boys called me and said they couldn't get a hold of you. They asked me if I'd seen you and if you're not with Castle, this is the only place you'd be. And you only come down here when you get angry and can't find Castle." Lanie shuffles her feet as I turn back around and start loading a magazine to load back into my gun before holstering it again. "So, what's up?"

"Nothing," I mutter. She knows it's not true. But I _really_ don't want to talk about it.

"No, come on." Her voice is getting closer and I can hear her sneakers scuffing across the cement floor. "What is it? This thing going on with you and Castle has me worried about you."

I push out a heavy sigh, load my gun and shove it back into my holster. "I stopped by the loft a little while ago."

I'm slowly walking past Lanie, whose following me with her eyes as I head for the bench along the wall that has my coat sitting on it. "Okay, you... practicing for when you shoot Castle for going with little miss British accent?"

"No," I slump down to the bench next to my coat and look to the pocket. "I-I... found something."

"Okay, well," Lanie starts and quickly sits down beside me, turning toward me on the bench, "whatever it is, clearly has you upset. What is it, Kate?"

My heart closes up my throat when I reach over and shive my shaking hand into coat pocket, grabbing hold of the felt box and pulling it out, holding it tightly in my lap. "Something that explains why Castle was so upset with me over last night."

She stays quiet, anxiously waiting for the moment when I show her what's in my hand. I look up to the ceiling, a knot in my stomach and a crack in my heart, and push my hand toward her, letting her grab the small felt box. And I can hear the moment when her mind catches up with mine by the sound of her breath hitching. "Oh, my god."

I can hear her open the lid, but can't bear to look inside. After everything I've done, I can't ruin that. I just can't take that away from him.

"Kate, this... is this an engagement ring?"

"Lanie, I-I..." I can't stop the shaking in my voice. It just hurts too much. Pitifully looking down to my lap before looking over to her, I suck in a congested breath and shake my head vigorously. "I think you were right."

Lanie's sad eyes look to me before looking back down to the ring, but when she does, I have to look in any direction but there. I can't take that away from him, the moment when he shows it to me and asks me that question. "What's with the bug?"

My blood stops and my brow creases. "Wha-" I start to lean forward, but physically stop myself with my arm slamming against the surface of the bench and pushing myself back.

"Don't get me wrong, it's beautiful but... I mean, not really something I'd see you wearing, that's all."

"Lanie, what if he was going to propose last night?" I admit. I'm crying now, I know. I can't stop it. I'm hating myself right now. "What if that's why he was so upset? He probably had this whole intimate night between the two of us planned before he looked at me, told me he loved me, and asked me to marry him and I just... threw it all in his face."

"Oh, honey..."

"What if I missed my chance, Lanie?" I finally admit my fears and the reason why I'm hating myself right now. "What if he thinks I don't want to marry him now?"

"Have you guys even _talked_ about tying the knot?"

I roll my tear-filled eyes and slump my shoulders. "That's not the _point,_ Lane!"

"Well, would you have said yes?"

A smile quickly blossoms onto my face, I can feel it despite not deserving it. "In a heartbeat. Before Vaughn showed up, I would have said yes before he got a chance to get the words out."

"Vaughn? What does she have to do with any of this?"

"Lanie," I slow her down and look over to her, "I am- _terrified..._ of losing him to her. Every minute he spends with her is another minute I'm afraid he's questioning if I'm really the woman he wants that with. And this whole thing has made me realize that you were right."

"About what?"

I sigh and try to drain myself of tears, washing it all away as I make the admission in my head. "If we have this many reservations about our relationship now, getting engaged won't solve a single one of them."

* * *

 _A/N: As much as I enjoy reading all the insights I'm getting into the psyche of these characters, I have my own reasonings for the inner thoughts of these two people. Most of which will be revealed in the next chapter. And for those of you saying that 'they'd be better off without x person' and are putting it in the same sentence as 'x person is acting narcissistic', please try to think before you play the part of a clinical psychologist._

 _No one is perfect, least of all emotionally. And as messed up emotionally as Beckett is, Castle has his very own set of very_ deep rooted _problems and insecurities that she never really takes time to address and take care of head-on as he did with hers, and even in some instances, unknowingly fuels these insecurities. I try hard not to make either character a Mary Sue or Gary Stu. So, if you_ can, _play along with this fun little story._

 _Because the chapter I've been waiting for is coming up next. :)_


	7. Chapter 7

Deep breath in, and out. Keep yourself together, Rick.

I can't keep her words out of my mind. It's getting late in the afternoon and she's been in the shower for a good thirty minutes. I've opened the blinds to the windows and now, I'm just looking out onto the city. My heart is aching, my stomach is churning, and my skin feels clammy. I'm having a lot of trouble focusing. She knows what Meredith did, what I let her do, the person I chose to build a life with. She knows about... seemingly all of it.

Which means she knows about my failures. I've had enough trouble convincing Beckett to fall in love with me, if she even has at all, I don't need her finding out about things that would make her change her mind. Because I may not be a better man than I was before I met her, but the difference is I'm consciously trying to be. I'm trying to make the right decisions and start standing on morals and principles again. Because it was her who helped me realize that if you don't stand on principle, you end up dying on it.

I used to be like that. Back in my college days when I was with Kyra. It was letting myself lose her that changed my mind, and then having Meredith break a vow I had every intention of keeping, that's what destroyed it. Alexis was the only thing that kept me as honest as I was when we met, as little as that was back then. But now, with things going downhill with Beckett, I'm starting to have doubts that I haven't had in a very long time. That maybe it's just not worth it if I keep getting hurt in the end. I mean, what's the point of being tested on your principles if you're going to end up losing the person who you thought you were doing it for.

And in the end, I can't really blame her for any of it. I made the decision to stick around when I knew I had fallen for her. And it's that blame I can't let go of, that I let myself fall for someone who wasn't what I thought they were, that I romanticized someone in my head so much that I've had rose-colored glasses on from the beginning. She's an amazing woman, there's no getting around it. But I knew how closed off and unwilling she was to have a real relationship.

When I hear movement from across the quiet space of the penthouse in the bathroom, I pull out my phone and look at a picture of us again, just to give myself a bit of resolve. Maybe I'm just being crazy. It probably was a bit selfish to expect her to drop everything just because I was there. I'll make it up to her when all this is over.

"Ugh..." I hear her sigh heavily from the other side of the penthouse.

I look over my shoulder, without thinking really, and I'm met with a sight I'm not prepared for... her in little else than a white towel wrapped around her midsection, with her hair wet and stringy. The way it's hanging gives me an all too vivid memory of that night last summer, when she came to me and said that I was something that I'd never been to anyone else before in my life... enough.

Keep it together, you idiot!

"The house staff forgot to put robes in the bathroom." She smiles softly and pads over to the short dresser next to the doorway into the bedroom. And when she bends over, I quickly avert my eyes as if I'd turn to stone if I continue to watch. "Ah, here they are."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her put the robe over her shoulders before tugging her hair out. I look down one last time to the picture of us on the beach in the Hampton's, her in a wavy blue sundress with my arms wrapped around her waist from behind. And with that, I put my phone back into my pocket and roll my shoulders back.

"My stay was rather short notice, I'm sure it simply slipped their minds." She says and pads her way over to me.

I feel my eyes flicker, "You know, Erica, most people I know would have been pretty upset, having to walk halfway through their hotel room half naked just to get a robe." I keep my eyes turned out to the city.

I hear her chuckle and by the sound of her voice, she's slowly getting closer. "Well, when you grow up around maid staff as I did, you get to see the kind of pressure they're under to keep the master's of the house happy."

"You mean to tell me you don't have any house staff at any of your homes? Even _I_ have a housekeeper come by once a week."

By this time, she's pacing around to my right side and is standing at my side, still sending me that smokey looking smirk. "Only when I need them. Unlike Daddy, I have no intention of being waited on hand and foot."

I send her a simple nod, understanding what she's saying, to some degree. "You seem very humble for a billionaire, Erica."

She turns her smirk into a soft smile and chuckles softly, crossing her arms. "Not humble, Rick. Human. It's one of the reasons I've asked you to be my protective detail."

"Oh?"

"Mmm," She nods, clearly sending me soft eyes and turns to face me, even though I'm still facing out the window. "You have success of your own, so you look at me as human and not some... being to be loomed at like some zoo attraction. If you were to spend all your time being starry-eyed at me, it might distract you from the matter at hand."

I've been aware enough of the situation to know what's going on, and she's made her move, or has already made it and is now simply zeroing in. I have no intention of going back on myself this easily. I've broken a lot of my own rules more than I'd ever admit openly, but I'd rather die than break that one. "You mean the case or you?"

My question slash accusation doesn't phase her in the least because she just turned that soft smile into a determined grin. "I wouldn't be lying if I told it was both, Rick."

"I figured as much." I sigh and look back out the window. I need some distance from this woman. So with my stomach still twisted and my blood cold inside my veins, I walk through penthouse in the opposite direction of her.

"Don't get me wrong, Rick. I do feel choosing you for a protective detail was the best decision, but I'm not going to make any illusions about my motives, ulterior to you or not." I hear her voice behind me from a few feet. I close my eyes and just keep an image of the woman I love in my mind. "Which is why I think it's time I'm honest." That stops me, but I don't turn around. "You and Detective Beckett... are..."

She knows... and she doesn't care. I turn to her and give her a lidded glare. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

She raises one side of her brow before slowly pacing around the table that's separating the distance between us. "There's only so many books you can dedicate to someone before they eventually get the hint, Rick. I mean, she is stunning. What's the phrase? Ruin your day kind of beautiful?"

More like ruin your whole damn life.

"I mean, I know women who'd kill to have those cheekbones of her's. But, even I know that trying to build a relationship on lust is like trying to make daylight out of fireworks." She's smarter than I gave her credit for. "Is it serious?"

That question hits me, because my heart doesn't know how to answer honestly. I look up to her, clenching my jaw. "Of course, it is."

But she can taste the doubt in my tone. She's sniffing it out by the look in her eyes, the way she's keeping her arms crossed and keeping her lips turned up in a smirk. "You hope."

"Don't think you know her like I do." I weakly defend.

"But I know you, Rick."

"Oh, you do?"

Still, it doesn't phase her. "See, you and I are more alike than you'd probably care to admit. Both of us raised to wealthy, all too busy people. Both of us coming up in the world despite the odds and just searching for someone who can," she stops in front of me, looking up at me, "complete us. I think it's fate that you and I met, Rick."

That's funny, so funny I let a bitter chuckle escape my throat and look away from her.

"You don't believe in fate?"

"You work with police long enough, you find out pretty quickly that 'fate' is just another excuse for not wanting to take the blame for something."

"That sounds to me like Detective Beckett talking." I give her a look, warning her not to say another word about her, but still, it doesn't shake her. "I know the type, Rick." She smirks again and turns to pace behind me. "The strong, independent women in a male-dominated profession, who has been counting on little else other than herself for so long, depending on someone else feels like a weakness. And she does not dare show you any of that weakness, lest it make her vulnerable."

"She's more than that."

"And that," She says behind me and waits until she's pacing around my left side to continue, "is the heart of the problem, isn't it. Especially for you."

"You don't know me, alright?"

"Don't I?" She's challenging me, and I feel helpless. She's dodging everything I'm throwing at her. "The product of an accidental night, you were raised by a single mother... which means, you were raised in the care of babysitter after babysitter. After all, she had better things to do than raise her own son. And she never did have enough foresight to figure out that when you acted out, you were only searching for her attention, good or bad. But even still, you never were enough... were you, Rick?"

She's making circles around me, both physically and mentally.

"Not enough of a son for a mother to raise herself, or enough for a father to even stick around for, not enough of a husband for a wife to stay faithful to, or enough for woman to fall for anything more than the money. So... how could you ever be enough for her?"

My throat is closed as she stops in front of me again. "It's-"

"It's what? Not like that? Well, of course, it's not. She's the only woman you've ever really loved." She shrugs and continues to pace in a circle around me. I feel so small, like a little boy. "But then again, so were the last ones. You might try to convince yourself that it's real this time, that it's... special, but even so... you know you'll never be enough for her. Because she's waiting for Superman and all you have to offer her is Clark Kent, the man who can only write about him. So you wait, with baited breath, for the day when she finally realizes... that you're truly not enough for her... and leaves you for greener grasses."

When she stops in front of me, I know that my eyes are burning.

"Just like they all did." I can see the moment when her smile softens and she takes a step forward. "If you want my opinion, Rick... I say why waste your time keeping the light on for a woman who insists on remaining blind. Especially to what an amazing man you really are. Because despite what she says, you are an incredible man. A man that any woman would be lucky to be with. I say why waste your time trying to convince someone who can't be convinced... when you can have someone who already is?"

My skin jerks at the feeling of her fingers on my stomach. My eyes close and I can feel in the air her getting closer. But when I feel her breath, my mind is hit with an image I haven't seen in a long time and my heart is wrenched painfully inside my chest. And before I can realize it, she's gasping at the feeling of my hands gripping her arms and pushing her away.

I open my eyes and look at her, seeing that she's staring up at me widely. She's had her fun... now it's my turn.

"You never knew who your real mother was." That catches her... because it's true. And once I read that sign, I'm on the right path. "Your father was sleeping with so many of the maids, it could have been any one of them. You were only kept around because your real mother threatened to go to the press if he didn't take you. You figured out pretty early that the woman he was married to, the woman who pretended to be your mother, was just a fixture in the house. A status symbol to make sure he could get it the right parties and attend the right events. You rarely ever saw him growing up because, like me, you were raised by babysitters and nannies."

The more I lay out the profile, the more I know it's true. And the more I can tell is the truth, the more is revealed.

"You were sent off to boarding school the first chance he got. And despite being neglected, you excelled. You worked hard because you just wanted him to be proud of you even though you knew he would never bother to watch. You graduate at the top of your class, but he's too busy to attend your graduation. He was always too busy. You didn't cry at his funeral. But you didn't feel bad because neither did anyone else. They were all looking at you, waiting for your permission. If you cried, then so could they. Because then at least someone cared about him."

She shakes her head in a small, disbelieving motion as she paces away from me.

"You find yourself in high-end clubs, the kind where they don't ask for your name because that's the whole point. No questions asked because then you might not be able to fool yourself. You stand at the bar and auction yourself off like a piece of cattle to the first bidder willing to buy you a drink, all because you feel so desperately the need to feel desired. To be wanted on a primal level, and if they don't ask any questions, you can trick yourself into thinking they want you for you and not what everyone else wants you for. The money, the fame, the houses... the trade secrets."

"That's not-"

"But the game is getting old and you can't fool yourself it means anything deeper any longer. You're tired of it because it's getting harder to separate the meaningless sex from your real emotional needs and it's getting harder to hide the hurt you feel every time it ends because to you... in the moment, it's not meaningless. In the moment, someone wants you as long as you can keep the facade up in your mind. But it's starting to catch up to you. You want someone who wants you for the real you, even though you don't even know who that is. You want someone who sees the character in the book and not the cover of it."

I can hear her let out a shaky breath and can see her shoulders deflate under her robe.

"And you don't care who you have to hurt to get it. That's why I'm really here. You invite me here, you get me riled up at your body, you play on my insecurities and get me just vulnerable enough to where I might give in. Well... I'm sorry, Erica, but I've been profiled by people a lot more psychopathic than you."

She closes her lips, lids her eyes, and smirks heavily. "Cute trick," her tone is giving her away. But when she looks at me, there's an honesty in her eyes. "She has no idea what she really has, does she?"

"Maybe not... but I do."

She nods slowly and turns away from me, walking to the other side of the penthouse, accepting that it's not going to happen and never will. Well, it's over. The lines are drawn, and I can relax.

But when I see a red light come through the window in a sharp line, my instincts kick into high gear. I throw my legs forward and grab onto the edge of the coffee table and flip it over. "Get down!"

* * *

 _A/N: I know Castle's insecurities all too well and can understand his character. Single motherhood is something I am a very strong advocate against. I was raised by a single mother and understand the neglect and insecurity it seeds inside of a person ( especially young boys). High IQ individuals, like Castle, can identify the problem and work to solve it, but that's not to say it's still not a problem. He hasn't done the work yet, and Beckett never felt the need to invest as much time in tearing down his own walls before she up and left for something she felt was more important than him. _

_And the show runners throwing it all on Castle's feet for not taking the lead in the relationship when it was her holding the reigns for their entire partnership before that, was ridiculous. Agreed that they need to communicate their problems, but it is quite rarely that simple, as real life should show any one of us. Knowing you have a problem and talking about it are one thing, but working to solve it is another matter entirely._

 _Sorry for the spiel, this kind of stuff gets me a bit riled up._


	8. Chapter 8

At first, I was worried. When Ryan had first told me that there was a shooting at the hotel, my body locked up and my heart disappeared. But when he got the words out that they were both alright, I felt myself melt with relief. Now, I'm heading up to the penthouse on the elevator. My heart reappeared stuck in my throat with nervousness. It's starting to get dark by the time I get to the hotel and he's been alone with that blondie all day and the chances that she bit her tongue and that Castle wasn't his usual charming, shiny-eyed, cutely-smirking, ruggedly handsome self are slim.

There's a pair of uniforms chatting with the hotel staff in the hall outside the door, which is open. And from here, I can see the hole coming through the window. But when I see it, my legs suddenly feel weak and my chest suddenly feels way too tight. My blood feels cold and my skin feels crawling.

I thought I'd gotten past this. Not now. I need to be strong, I need to be okay. I can't go through this again. This isn't about you, Kate. That was almost two years ago, you're past it. I need to collect myself here.

I stop in the hall and close my eyes, forcing everything out and take a deep breath, steeling my resolve and mustering up as much emotional strength as I can. Maybe seeing Castle will help me. Seeing him has always made me feel safe. I always feel safest when I'm lying in his arms, especially in that big, luxurious bed of his. I still remember the way my spine tingled with that warm excitement the morning I woke up after that first night, the way I was curled into his side with our legs tangled together. He was so warm.

That's better. I'm better.

I confidently take the few steps it takes to make it into through the doorway of the top floor penthouse suite but the feeling in the air feels... tense. And the first thing I find isn't Castle, like I had hoped. But that tall blonde he left with this morning, clad in little else other than a white bathrobe. And when I see her talking to Esposito, my heart starts to crack. I can feel it physically, it hurts.

The next thing I find is the two glasses sitting on the bar, both empty but having been used, with a bottle of whiskey opened and about a third gone. They had drinks. Oh, my god. What's happening? What happened?

Then I see the coffee table, overturned with the decorative glassware lying haphazardly on the floor. Then, my aching eyes flick over to my left, where I see the open door to the bathroom, where the shower has clearly been used and her clothes from this morning are still sitting folded up on the counter. She showered... she was naked in the same hotel room as the man I love.

It... it was just one night. He doesn't have this much resentment for me bottled up, does he? He said, he told me he loved me... years ago. He's been in love with me for so long, he wouldn't do this to me. Not him. He's... he's changed. The man I met five years ago at that book party might have done this, would probably definitely have done this, but not the man I fell for, not the man that told me he loved me, not the man that stood by my side on that bomb, not my Castle.

Not the man I've tried _so hard_ to get it right with.

After a long moment of feeling the world fall apart, I see him walk out of the bedroom with Ryan, one hand tucked in the pocket of his dark denim jeans and the other pointing over to the window. But seeing him doesn't bring me that usual skip in my heartbeat, or the lift of tension in my gut, or the smile on my face... all I can see is him and her. All I can see is his lips on her, doing all the things he saved especially for me, for when we were making love. Because that's what we would do. We have our fun, playful nights, but we both know what it is between us... it's making love because it _is_ love.

But now, all I can see is him with her.

I'm... no, I'm making too big a deal about this. I don't know anything yet. There has to be another explanation. There was last time.

"Castle," I finally find my voice. I feel weak, but I can hear it bounce off the walls over the chatter in the room.

He quickly looks over to me and his features fall as he turns away from Ryan and quickly heads for me. "Beckett." My body crawls when he says my name. I can feel him whispering it in my ear as he lays himself down on top of me, something I have very rarely let someone do, and have never loved it like I do with him.

What the hell is happening to me? Even now, he feels so far away and he's coming right toward me.

"Thank god you're finally here," He says and stops in front of me. I know he can tell something is wrong. His entire demeanor just changed when he looks me in the eye. His brow just pinched in his shoulders look heavy and tense. And when he sees my own expression, he looks over his shoulder to the window and then back over at me. He then leans in just a bit closer to me and turns into me. I can tell he wants to reach out to me but decides not to. I saw his arm move before he corrected himself. "Are you okay?"

My lungs let go of the breath I was holding and I send him one last look before I march angrily into the doorway of the bedroom.

"What's going on, Beckett?"

I spin around on my heel and stare him down. "I don't know. You tell me." I have to keep my voice in a harsh whisper. Otherwise, I'm going to scream.

His brow pinches in naivety, clueless. "What do you mean?"

I let my shoulders fall and give him an obvious look. This is literally killing me. My stomach feels nauseous. And it's not from not having eaten all day. "Castle, I walk in here to _this,_ and you really have to ask me that?"

And when I use those words, he finally seems to catch on. And with the way he just rolled his eyes and started to turn away from me, he clearly doesn't want to talk about it. "Beckett."

"No, don't 'Beckett' me. I come in and see Vaughn standing there in a _bathrobe,_ the shower's been used, there's an open bottle of your favorite brand of scotch on the counter, the coffee table is turned over, I can smell her perfume on you _and,"_ he stops when I reach up and grab onto his collar with one hand "your _collar_ is crocked!"

All he does is sigh heavily.

"What the hell did I just walk into here, Castle?"

"You walked into me having just been shot at. I'm fine, thanks for asking."

" _Rick!"_ I clench my teeth.

"Can you calm down, please?" He asks, his shoulders slumping. But I'm so far beyond calm. "You know me better than that, Beckett."

"Well, what the hell is she doing in a bathrobe?"

"She took a shower." He defends with a shrug. "If you think about it, it's probably the safest part of the whole room. What was I supposed to say? Hey, _don't_ take a shower because it might look bad?"

"And the drinks? A little unprofessional, don't you think?"

"Forgive me for needing something to calm my nerves when I'm forced to jump in front of bullets for someone that isn't you. Besides, I'm not technically on duty. I'm not a cop."

"Then what really happened?" I demand. He's not giving me much reason to believe him.

"We were just talking when I saw the spotting laser from the scope come through the window."

"And you just happened to be standing there?"

"She was only about a foot away, I reacted on instinct and pulled her to the ground when I saw the light."

"Well, what the hell was she doing standing so close to you?"

It's then that I see his jaw click and his eyes become heavy. "She tried to kiss me."

It feels worse than I was prepared for, and I was bracing myself for it. It didn't work. "Well, why didn't you push her away?!" I seethe. It was just one night, and even if he was going to propose, it's still no justification for what the hell went on here!

But the look he gives me is one that tells me the question is answering itself and that it should have been obvious. Just a half-lidded gaze and a pursed frown. He did push her away. She did make her move, like I was afraid of, and he denied it. He could have gone after her, she was after him like I had feared. But he stayed... with me. He chose me. And he's acting like I'm crazy for even thinking he would ever do something like what I was accusing him of. I hear him let out a small sigh through his flaring nostrils that catches my attention again.

"Now, can we _please_ not make a bigger deal about this than we already have? You know that there is only one woman I'd love to see in a penthouse suite in a bathrobe while I save her from flying bullets, and she's standing right here." I jump when I feel him poke me in the left side. It's then that the last bit of tension and heartbreak drains from my system. But still... he feels... far. Unreachable.

Like just one more word out of turn actually will send him in the arms of my worst nightmare.

"And besides," he continues, "I want to get you out of here." That catches my attention as I cross my arms and look at him with a craned neck. "You've been up for more than a day and a half, you probably haven't eaten anything all day, you're stressed, as am I, and I don't want you to spend more time in here than you need to."

I can't disregard the warmth quickly gathering in my heart at how caring and loving he's acting for my wellbeing. But the fact he doesn't want me in here for longer than I need to be is confusing me. "What do you mean, Castle? I'm fine."

"I-I just..." he stammers and looks over his shoulder to the busted window. "Didn't want you... thinking..." he's choosing his words and looks back over to me with worry plain on his face, "anything. That's all. I'm sorry I'm being bossy, I'm just not really in the back seat kind of mood right now."

And he's even afraid of me having another episode just because the killer used a sniper to try and kill Vaughn. What did I ever do to deserve him? Lanie was right. I have been taking him for granted. I'm trying really hard not to swoon obviously. But even still, I feel as if I just fell for him all over again. He's just such a loving, caring, gentle man. He'd probably offer to take me straight home from here and make me dinner, put us to bed.

Martha is right. We need a night to ourselves. I'm taking the next two days off. It's final. We need some 'us' time. I miss him.

"So can we let this go?" He asks me, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I let out a breath and look up to his pitiful yet adorable eyes. "Okay," I raise my brow, "but only because you're giving me the puppy dog eyes."

* * *

Well, it's done. The case is over. And not soon enough.

Beckett and I quickly closed it when we were forced to go back to the precinct. Two different methodologies gave her the idea that it might have been two killers. Which turned out to be exactly the case. We found Vaughn's employment director and her former assistant hold up in a motel just outside of Queens. I guess they'd been planning it for some time. They'd kill Vaughn and with no family to inherit her business dealings, Chloe would try and maneuver her way into filling Erica's spot on the board and eventually take over the company. They confessed after Beckett got Daniel to turn on Chloe, saying he just wrote the letters but stopped when Chloe got in contact with him and convinced him to use his contacts to get him the poison. When that failed, she told him where Vaughn would be staying.

But now, she's tired. I can tell by the way her step is low to the floor. Her stride is heavy and clumsy. I want to get her home but she's been talking to Gates for a while. She's probably figuring out a way to talk her way out of her paperwork for the night. Come on, she's been at it for a day straight. She deserves a break.

Even if this is all I'm getting out of this relationship, I want it back. Especially now, after having everything thrown in my face so blatantly. It was all I could do to throw it back. Now, I'd give anything to just have her, even if I don't have her heart. I just need _her_ back, even if I do end up taking the blame for whatever funk we got into because of last night.

 _She's waiting for Superman and all you can give her is Clark Kent._

I can't keep thinking about it. I can't keep dwelling on what she said. As true as it was, I can't let it get to me. Even if this is all I'm getting and she does end up leaving me for something else, I'm still happier with her now than I was with anyone else. That's got to count for something, right? Even if I convinced myself that every other woman I've been with before was the one and that I loved them more than anyone else, it's different with Beckett.

For me, anyway.

No, stop, Rick. You keep going down this road, it's going to end up driving you off of a cliff and it's going to take your relationship with it.

Beckett and I converse tiredly, but she seems at ease now that the case is over and Vaughn is gone and out of our lives, thank god. And not having the energy to go in separate directions, she just decides to follow me home. Internally, I was really hoping she'd say that. Having her home makes the loft feel more... homely. I hint at making her something to eat, wanting to put in the effort to make her happy and not simply cop out and order take out, as good as that sounds. I could use some Chinese.

But after a while, I'm bustling about the kitchen, making her a grilled sandwich and some criss cut fries. She's been unwinding in the office with the door closed, and I'm almost afraid that she's fallen asleep. I better go get her before she does fall asleep. With a soft smile playing across my face, I call through the door. "Beckett?"

With no response, I open the door.

"Beckett, I made-"

What's... wow, this... what's going on? In the middle of my office, on a table in front of my desk, is a wooden box with the lid open and her phone sitting inside standing up, the screen facing me. It's surrounded by red and light purple flower pedals and I can see a full, unopened bottle of white wine sitting next to the box, with two empty glasses. There's a line of candles lit on my desk and on the bureau, making the room dance in shadows. And before I can fully take in the scene, I hear the door to the bedroom open and when I turn... the entire world falls away and it's just her.

Standing in the doorway in a long, black, sequin dress with a deep valley cut into her chest and her arms bare, with her hair tied back into a low bun is what I can only describe as the love of my life. I just fell in love with her all over again. "Hi."

Her voice is so soft and angelic. And I can tell that she's wearing sandals by the way she's walking up to the table. "Wow, y-you uh..." how do I describe something so indescribably beautiful? "Beckett, you look incredible."

A smile splits across her face as she stops at the side of the table. "You're not looking too bad yourself, Castle."

Doing a quick once-over of myself, in a meager outfit of loose jeans, tennis shoes, and a grey flannel shirt, I quickly look back up to her. My eyes hurt when they're not looking at her now. "What's going on? What's all this?"

"Well," she starts softly and starts to sashay her way in front of the table. "I've been thinking... and maybe you were right. Maybe I have been taking this just a bit for granted."

With that, my quivering heart quickly stops beating.

"Because, it may come as a surprise to you, but I do quite enjoy spending my spare time with you. Which is why," it's then that I follow her hand and see her pick up her phone. She looks at it for only a second before she turns it back to me and shows me the confirmation message on her screen, asking her to delete the contact of Sofia. And before I can react, she's pressing yes and deleting her cousin from her phone.

Does she really think that I'm so heartless that I don't want her talking to her own cousin?

But before I can argue, she's locking her screen and setting her phone down in the wooden box on the table and closing the lid with a snap.

"No, Beckett, I didn't mean I wanted you to never talk to your cousin again. I was just-"

"Oh no," I hear her chuckle and slowly start toward me, "that was just symbolic. I can always get her number again. Besides, Sofia's a bit of a chore to talk to anyway." I'm frozen in place as she extends her arms out to me with a soft smile. My hands find her waist just as she's putting her arms on my shoulders. "That's just to show you that when we're together, and it's just us, that it's just that... us. Now," her arms go around my neck fully when she takes another step into me. It's so good to have her in my arms again. "I have taken the liberty of taking the next two days off and tonight, I am going to treat you to a very expensive bottle of wine I managed to buy off the hotel you were cooped up in, followed by a long night of me..." her tone just got husky and it just got a lot harder to breath, "working out the tension in your muscles."

She's leaning up and capturing my lips before I can answer. Mmm, I've missed kissing her. It's like our lips were just made for each other. I work my lips against her's and start pulling her in by the waist.

 _You might try to convince yourself that it's real this time, that it's... special, but even so… you know you'll never be enough for her._

"Kate," I moan against her lips, briefly taking in the feeling of her nails tickling my hairline.

"Yeah?"

I take in one last breath and look down at her, seeing her expectant smile and dancing eyes. I just... I have to know. I tug her against me one last time before I'm forcing the words out. I know why I'm this scared of treading this line. But I can't stand to let these doubts linger and eat away at me any longer. "This is special, right?"

She smiles an all too casual smile but the feeling is empty. "Oh, yeah. You think the bottle _you_ bought was expensive? Wait till you see this stuff."

I let her step out of my arms as the doubts chew away the last remnants of my hope. Maybe Vaughn was right. Maybe she was right about everything.

* * *

 _A/N: I would have posted this chapter sooner, but my interwebz went down yesterday afternoon and just now got back up. I have about half of the next chapter written. Stay tuned! :)_

 _A/N2: Yes, I had to change POVs mid chapter. I couldn't justify an entire chapter dedicated to Castle's take on the loft scene for this part, so this is kind of a 2 part chapter. The next chapter will be all Beckett, then the next will be all Castle._


	9. Chapter 9

It feels so good being in his arms again. Better than I remember somehow. It's like I'm getting him back. His light smile and the way he kissed me, I put a little bit more of myself into the kiss, just to rid myself of the nightmare that was clawing at the back of my mind. Just imagining her's, or anyone else's lips on him is painful to even think about.

But not anymore.

He kissed me back and it felt just as sweet and tingly and electric as it usually does. And he's smiling his usual soft smile as I drag my hands down his chest and step back to his desk to open the bottle of wine. His question was odd, but he should understand that I want a calm night of passion. I'm smiling, still feeling the tingle in my lips from his kiss, and pulling the cork off the wine bottle.

But when I look back over to him with the bottle in my hand, he's turned away from me and is slowly pacing away.

I know what he was asking me. I just don't want to find out what possessed him to feel the need to ask me. "That's not the answer you wanted, was it?"

I can hear him let out a short, hard breath before turning back around with a feigned smile. "Not exactly."

I nod and feel my fingers dig into the glass of the bottle in my hand. I don't know how I'm supposed to handle this situation. Rough waters in a relationship, in the past, was a sign for me to bale. I've never had to work through them. "I knew what you were asking me, Castle, I just…"

He sighs shortly and runs a hand through his hair, he can't even look at me right now.

"I just don't know why you felt the need to ask me that."

But when he turns back to me, he has a smirk on his face and his eyes are narrowed. "You're right." He says to me in a light tone, but I can tell what that smirk is. "It was a stupid question, anyway." It's then that I see his hand reaching for me.

I can't, not this time. Any other time, I would let him pull me in. But he's not letting me brush him off, I can't let him brush me off. I'm putting my hand on his forearm to stop him and one on over his heart to as he stands in front of me. His smirk vanishes in the blink of my eye. "You didn't like it when I did it to you. Don't do it to me, too."

His jaw clicks and his eyes become heavy and lidded as he gazes down at me. Our height difference is so palpable now that I'm not wearing heels. All he does is nod and let his arms fall back down to his sides and turn away from me again. He doesn't waste any time in getting his distance again.

He keeps getting farther away from me.

"I-I just…" I don't even know how to start. "I don't know what went so wrong that you have those kinds of doubts." My heart stops when I think of the small felt box I have hidden behind the box. I reach for it and form the words on my tongue. "Especially after I found this."

He turns around and looks at what I'm holding and his entire demeanor shifts. His eyes become hard and his face drains of color. "Where'd you find that?" His voice is so small and shaky. He's terrified.

"I-I was here this morning and…" Why am I explaining? That's not really the point, is it? He slowly takes a few steps toward me and takes the ring from my hands and continues to pace away from me. And when I see how sad and beaten down he is, my guilt churns inside my stomach. "I'm so sorry, Castle. If I knew you were going to propose last night, I _never_ would have-"

"This ring," he says in a shaky voice and turns back around to face me. Oh god, I can see his eyes brimming, "wasn't meant for you."

I… I can't even think. But all I can do is watch him as he grits his teeth and grips the box with a fist. I freeze as I see his arm fly out and he throws the box across the loft with a grunt. I jump when I hear it, and brace myself when I hear the clatter and clang of the metal bridge hit the floor in the other room.

He's just pacing away from me with his hands on his waist now.

He wasn't like this before Vaughn. She did something to him. I know it. "This is because of Vaughn, isn't it?" There's anger in my voice. I know I can't get rid of it.

He looks back to me, "She has nothing to do with this, Beckett."

"Don't lie to me, Castle. Something happened, it's written all over your face." God, my heart is already breaking, cracking. "Did you kiss her?" He lied to me, didn't he? He lied right to my face. He just turns away from me with a shake of his head. "Did you?" Still, nothing. My heart hurts so much right now. " _Answer me,_ Rick!"

"Kate," He's walking back toward me with one hand on his waist and one hand scrubbing down his face. He can't even look me in the eye. But when he stops in front of me and looks back, the only thing I can see is hurt. "When you first read those emails that Tyson wrote, when he was trying to make it look like I had had an affair… you thought they were real."

It wasn't a question. And he's reading me. I remember that time, the world falling down around me. "I already told you, Castle, I never-"

"Tell me the truth… Kate." He demands. My heart can't help but feel that same way of broken. "You follow the evidence, no matter where it leads. You thought they were real and that I had cheated on you… didn't you?"

I look away from him and feel my body flood with weakness. "Yes."

I see him nod through tears flooding my eyes and cross his arms. "And how did you feel."

I can feel a tear leak out on my cheek. I didn't want to cry tonight, I just wanted to be with him. "Shattered." It's all I can do to hold back the wave of emotion, the heartbreak. "Like I was being shot all over again. Only closing my eyes and giving into the pain didn't make it stop… just made it worse."

He takes in a breath through his nose and nods. "Now… imagine if it were true." I look back up to him and the angry pinched brow is gone. He's just looking at me like he's completely vulnerable, heartbroken. "And you had to hear it from you four and a half-year-old daughter."

His… it's…. "What are you saying?"

He smiles a bitter grin and looks down at the floor. "You've met her. You know what she's like."

The realization hits me with more force than the emotions I just went through did. "Meredith."

"I know you asked her, Kate. It had to have come up at least once while you two were together… what happened between us, why she left me."

My lips quiver and my heart shoots up into my throat as I reach for him. He couldn't have gone through that and not ever tell me about it. "Are you saying that-"

"And since you never came to me about it, I can only imagine that she blamed me. That she said it was my fault that she left."

I can't will the tears away. My heart is still breaking, but for him now. "Yes."

He stares me down for a moment before I hear his tight, frustrated voice. "What did she tell you?"

The only thing I can feel right now is… shame. I don't feel it very often so I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it. All I can do is crane my neck and avoid from looking at his shimmering eyes. "She said… that after all those years, you knew everything about her and she knew nothing about you." When I look up, I'm expecting to see him angry. But all I see is scared vulnerability. "And that every time she'd ask you about your past… or your future… that you'd smirk and throw her off. So she left."

He smiles a sad, bitter grin and lets out a dark chuckle and nods. "Well… maybe she's right. Maybe I did throw her off once or twice, because, to be fair, she did ask. And who knows? Maybe if I did open up just a little bit more… she wouldn't have felt the need to break our marriage vows."

So it's true. My suspicions were right. If he had just told me, if he had just come to me about Meredith, at least hinted at what happened, I wouldn't have let her get to me. "What happened, Castle?"

"You really want to know?"

I know what he's asking me. I know what he's afraid of. I've never seen him this scared and vulnerable before. We're treading on ground we haven't before. He's afraid I'll see him differently, that I'll stop loving him. I have to dispel those fears if we're ever going to make any progress. "After all the things I've told you about me, has it ever once changed the way you feel about me?"

He stares into my eyes, and I stare right back, longing for that connection we usually get.

But when he nods and runs his hand down his face again, all I have to do is stay silent.

"It was just over a year after Kyra had left when I finally gave up hope that she was ever coming back. I was feeling pretty depressed and I was beating myself up pretty good over it, and when I met Meredith at a party one night, she… made me feel very good about myself, the way she fawned all over me. And, in my weakness, I chased after that feeling."

He's a storyteller, he can't just tell me that Meredith cheated on him. He has to weave a story for me. He has to help me understand.

"I never really intended for it to be serious going in, but when she started hinting at getting married, I was down on one knee pretty quick. She told me two days after I proposed that she was pregnant. I didn't want to admit it then, but looking back, I know that she already knew and played on my wants to have a family someday. She was an actress, she didn't want to be the woman who was pregnant with no ring on her finger, she was worried about her image."

I knew Meredith was an actress, but I had always assumed they had sat down and planned to have Alexis. She's such a huge part of his life, I never even thought that Meredith didn't plan to get pregnant. Let alone that she only married him to save her public image.

"We rushed the wedding and Alexis was born five and a half months later. And for a while, everything was perfect." I can see a smile start to lift the edges of his lips. "I had the family I had always wanted growing up, it was everything I'd ever dreamed of. At first, we had made an agreement that Meredith wouldn't take any rolls that took her outside of the city until Alexis was two. It wasn't that big of a deal then because Meredith only had a bit part in a soap opera."

I can see the moment when his features get heavy and his face turns pale with anguish.

"But," he sighs, "when the diapers started to stink and the midnight crying lost its cuteness, Meredith quickly became resentful. And when Alexis turned two, she took the first part that was offered to her that took her outside of the city. It went on for another two years or so. Meredith would come home for a few weeks here and there, sometimes stay for a few months before taking off again. It hurt that she didn't love raising Alexis as much as I did, but I took the job of parent far more serious than she did."

I just stand, my blood feeling cold and my body feeling weak as I listen to his story. This is what I've wanted, for him to be more open and honest with me, right? He spent four years going through this, pushing me and poking me for answers from my past. I guess I never really thought it was this hard for him.

"It was a week after our fifth anniversary when Alexis was home from school, sick with the flu. It was just after ten when I was in here writing and she was in the living room watching TV when she called out to me saying that she saw Mommy on TV. Meredith was still filming, so my first reaction was something must have been wrong. So I rush into the living room, and I guess Alexis was channel surfing and came across a gossip news show. And when I saw the picture on the screen… my heart fell into my stomach."

He tightens his lips into a thin line and stops himself from going on. But I need him to keep going. I reach out to him and put my hands on his chest, letting him know I'm still here. "Keep going, babe."

He nods once before looking back up to me. "It was a picture of her and a producer… having sex in a Jacuzzi in Malibu. She was supposed to be in LA. I waited for her to come back home to confront her. And I had every intention of letting it go. If it was a one-time mistake, I was willing to put in the time to fix it for the sake of our family. It's when she came home that she told me that she'd been sleeping with him for over a year."

"Oh god-"

"She only decided to tell me then because he finally gave her a part that would make her independent. She let the press find her in Malibu. She knew they'd be watching. And when she told me that she'd been having an affair and that it wasn't a one-time thing… she handed me the divorce papers and left."

'Oh…" My voice shakes as I pet his chest soothingly, "baby, I'm so sorry." I'm trying to be as sweet as possible. He needs to know that I'm heartbroken for him.

He takes in a sniffle before continuing. "I carried it with me for… years, Kate. All the way into my marriage with Gina. I saw them together every time I closed my eyes for months. There were nights when I'd sneak up to Alexis' room and just watch her sleep, only to remind myself that I couldn't drown… because there was someone who was depending on me to keep my head above water. Alexis was the only thing that got me through to the other side of it at all."

"Rick, I had no idea. Why didn't you tell me about any of this?"

He chuckles another dark chuckle and smirks. "What? Like I'm supposed to be proud of it? I'm supposed to be proud of the fact that I wasn't a good enough husband for her to stay faithful to? Or maybe I'm supposed to feel proud of the fact that I knew what she was like when I asked her to marry me because she was using _me_ to cheat on someone else! I knew that when I asked her, Kate, so I didn't even know if I had the right to feel betrayed at all."

So that's what he was afraid to tell me. My hands slowly fall off his chest and eventually swing back down to my sides.

"Look, the point is… I know what it's like." He's looking at me with a knitted brow and grinding teeth. "To have your trust violated like that. To be… betrayed on _the_ most fundamental level. And I would _never,"_ he snaps at me, making me jump, "do that to you. _Ever!_ I don't care how much money someone has, or what kind of memory they have, or what they look like in a red dress. I would _never_ put you through that."

I doubted him. I accused him of cheating on me, more than once in the past and he's been carrying all this around with him, all hidden behind that clever smirk and humorous quips.

"And the problem is," his voice is softer now, and when I look back up to him, he's leaned back with his hands on his waist, "I shouldn't have to tell you any of this. You're already supposed to have that kind of trust in me. But with you, it's the same old story. It has been since day one, Beckett. You trust me with your life, just not your heart."

Well, It works both ways, Rick.

I think it but keep the words back as I watch him turn away from me and take a few steps in the other direction. I don't trust him with my heart? Well, what if he's right? He's made one thing abundantly clear, and that's that he doesn't trust me with his heart either. And I don't know who's to blame for that, really. Me? Him? Or just both of us for expecting all this to work out with silence.

"Castle," I call out to him, but he doesn't turn.

If it was anybody else, I'd just walk out now, come back tomorrow and forget any of this ever happened. But not with him. Not with Castle. I love this man too much to just give up when we hit a rough patch.

"Baby, look at me," I say and take a step forward, putting my hand on his shoulder. "Please?"

I can feel him let out a shuttering breath against my hand on his shoulder. We need to make it through this. We've done enough tonight. I'm not going to ask for anything more, no more old scars to tend to or wounds to salt. I just want to comfort him.

"I just want you to hold me." I think out loud. "Like you did that night in my apartment… after our first night together. Back when we only had each other."

I hear him draw another breath and feel drawn into him as he turns around and keeps his eyes turned away. He puts his arms around me just like he did that night and I bury myself into the expanse of his chest, breathing him in as I hug him tightly. I tuck myself underneath his chin and feel my heart swell at the feeling of the saftey of his arms. I love it when he just holds me like this. In the end, this is why I couldn't believe those emails. These aren't the arms of a man who could do those things.

"Where'd this come from, Rick? This… chasm? Why do you feel so far away?"

He rubs my back once and pulls back. I'm only leaned back for a second before I feel his hand tilting my chin up and feel his lips come down on mine in a passionate, emotionally charged kiss. Overtaken, I throw my arms around the man I love's neck and squeeze him while he takes me in his arms, tight enough to where I feel my feet lift off the ground.

I let his lips go but keep my forehead against his. I just want to feel close to him again, I don't want to give up the connection I feel to him, not again. I just want us to feel in love again.

"Can I take you to bed now?" He asks against my lips.

I breathe a chuckle against him and weave my fingers into his hair. "Take me to bed, Castle."


	10. Chapter 10

I'm still too tired to be awake, but something's wrong. All the sudden, I just can't get comfortable again. I usually don't have this problem.

I open my eyes all the way and I only have to gather myself for a second before I can see what's wrong. The space next to me is empty. When I see the empty ruffle and folds of the sheets, my heart is taken ahold by fear inside my chest. She couldn't have left, she fell asleep curled into my side like she did back when things were normal between us.

I lean up on my arms and focus my crusty eyes over to her side of the bed… huh, her side of the bed, and see her pale blue robe hanging from the back of the armchair. Did she just get dressed and leave? She… she wouldn't just leave like that. Not after the things she dragged out of me last night. I look over to the nightstand and my chest fills with a small bit of relief when I see her dad's watch and her phone sitting next to the lamp.

It's then that I hear a faint beep come from the kitchen, then another two. She's still here. If nothing else, she's still here. And now, I can't just go back to bed. I need to see her. She wants to fix things, she wants things to be better between us. At the very least, that means she wants me to be a part of her life.

I throw the covers off myself and stand up, grabbing my robe and pulling it over my shoulders and pad out the side door of my bedroom, but stop in the doorway when I see her stopped in front of the bridge I must've knocked over. She stands with her unruly wavy hair hiding her eyes. I watch silently, drinking her in, as she brushes her hair back behind her ear and beds over, picking up the ring off the floor.

Oh, god… I can only imagine what she must think of me when she saw the ring. And she… she thought it was for her? She had it in her head that I was going to propose the other night. I can't lie, it's not like it hasn't been in the back of my mind for quite some time, the way back, but… with _that_ ring? She has to know that I know her better than that.

When I see her flip the lid open, I can see the moment when her brow furrows and she sees what the ring looks like. She stares at it for a few hard moments before I just have to explain myself. "Butterflies were her favorite."

She looks up to me with a snap of her head, a widening of her hazel eyes, and an adorable puckering of her lips.

"Kyra, she uh… she had a thing for butterflies."

Her shoulders relax under the threads of my flannel shirt I'm just now noticing she has on, buttoned up only half way to where I can make out the faint distinction of her scar, which I have spent many a night worshipping. A quick smile flashes across her face before she looks back down to the ring. I was in my early twenties, so I bought a ring with a butterfly setting. Give me a break.

She looks up to me after another moment spent looking at the ring. "I didn't know who it was for when I found it, so… I guess I just assumed it was for me and that you were… well…"

I push out a chuckle and start toward her. "Didn't you at least glean that when you saw it?"

I lean over and press a small, chaste kiss to her cheek as I pass her. I can feel her lean herself into it, increasing the what was meant to be light brushing of my lips against her soft skin. Well, that's still normal. When I look into the kitchen, I notice that she has the microwave going and that the place I had left sitting out here for her is gone. She must have found it and is reheating it. And it's then that the microwave beeps and stops its hum. And being the doting boyfriend that I am, it would be nice if I were to finish what I started for her before she sidetracked us.

I'm walking into the kitchen when I hear her voice behind me. "I never looked at it."

That makes me stop and look over my shoulder. She's slowly meandering toward me with a small smile on her face while holding the ring gingerly in her hand. "Really?"

"Well," She laughs, "I figured if you _were_ going to propose then you'd want me to be surprised when I see the ring, so… I never looked at it because I didn't want to steal that away from you."

My heart swells slowly, mainly because I'm always taken aback when she lets me know that she's just that thoughtful. "Don't worry, you can rest assured that I know you just a little bit better than to get you something like that." I tell her as I open the door to the microwave and pull out the steaming plate that she put in here.

I'm actually kind of hungry myself now that I see this grilled sandwich I made her last night.

Beckett is sliding herself up into a stool when I turn around with her plate, smiling at me anxiously. "Thanks," She chirps when I set the plate down in front of her. I give her a thankful smile, because I am happy to do things for her. I like it when I put effort into something and she gives me that sparkly-eyed look.

She's taking large bites out of her meal while I turn around and open the fridge and take out the ketchup, setting it down next to her. When I look at her, she has her eyes on the ring, flicking back and forth to see where I am in the kitchen and the ring itself. She wants to ask, I can tell. She's smart enough and knows enough about what happened to Kyra that she can get the story herself.

But… if she asks, I have to tell her. The last thing I want to do is prove Meredith right. I knew she got to the woman I love. I just knew it. I never should have let her stay with us. I should have just mustered up the courage to kick her out.

"So, this was meant for Kyra?"

Well, there it is. The question I wasn't hoping for, asked over a mouthful of food to make it sound more casual than it is. She can tell by the way I harden up physically and turn away from her, opening the cupboard to make a pot of coffee.

"I'm sorry, babe, I-" she cuts herself off when I open up the coffee grounds and search for a filter. I do love it when she calls me pet names. I wasn't really that fond of it with the other women I've been serious with, especially Meredith, and Gina wasn't a big fan of pet names. But when Kate does it, it makes us sound more… together. It reminds me that she likes us as a couple, like I do.

I can hear the crunch of the fries right before I turn on the faucet and fill up the pot. She waits until I'm pouring the water into the coffee maker to continue.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Castle."

I do want to… and don't. It's painful to rehash. All of it is. I always thought I wasn't one to dwell. The past is the past, that's where it belongs and it shouldn't matter. I've always been one to focus on the moment, if not the future. But with her… working with her has taught me a lot of things, among them that the past can come back with a vengeance if you don't deal with it.

For a moment, I focus heavily on the sputter and spat of the coffee pot as it brews, just to clutter up my mind with something other than the voices starting to fill myself with reasons to get as much distance between us as I can. After I can feel it's passed, I look back over to her.

When our eyes meet, she smiles softly. "It's not that I don't want to, Kate. It's…" I don't really want to openly admit to her that I'm just scared. I'm supposed to be stronger than that.

But she gives me a nod quickly. "Hard, I understand." She pops another few fries into her mouth before putting just a small pool of ketchup on her plate beside them. She's dipping her fries just as she's swallowing. "I didn't even realize you made this."

I feel a smirk on the edges of my lips. "Well, we might have gotten a tad sidetracked last night."

She smiles over her mouthful of food and takes another few fries in her fingers. She eats silently as I wait for the coffee to finish and when she's done, she wipes the corners of her mouth and slumps forward a bit on her stool. "Listen," my stomach twists a bit, she wants to pull more things out of me, "I'm not going to force you to tell me anything you don't want to… okay?"

I don't want to armor myself up against her, I do want to be more open, because what Meredith told her wouldn't be bothering her, or me for that matter, this much if it weren't true. And the best way I know of to get back at her is to prove her wrong, right?

"I mean," she starts softly with a smile to match, "I spent a year in therapy just to be able to work up the courage to admit that I wanted to be with you. I understand how hard it is."

I just nod and hang my head, looking down at the corner.

There's a tense silence hanging in the air before I hear her voice again. "I'm sorry that Meredith cheated on you, Castle. You deserve so much better. And-"

The coffee pot… figures it would go off when she's using that soft, loving tone with me.

I turn to go pour some, but she's stopping me before I step away from the counter. "Don't worry, babe, I'll get it." She's up and off her stool, practically skipping around the island and over to the counter behind me. "You've been getting me coffee for five years, I think I can return the favor once or twice."

I turn around and feel my heart swell. Standing in my kitchen, her hair tumbling down her shoulders in gorgeous waves, with one of my shirts on, opening cupboards and drawers like she's right at home, making two cups of coffee… there isn't a day, hell, probably even an hour that goes by when I don't think of that night.

"I love you."

The only thing I can hear is the clang of the spoon as it hits against the ceramic mug in front of her as she spins around to look at me wide-eyed… as if it's the first time she's ever heard me say it. God, what did I just do?

Her soft smile doesn't even register in my brain. "I love you too, Castle."

Finally, I can feel my heart beat again. Her voice was so small, so light and squeaky when she said it, her eyes sparkling in the low light of the loft. It's a moment, her telling me that the way she did in that tone, which will flash before my eyes right before I die.

I'll remember it because here, there isn't any pretext. She's not standing on a bomb and those might have been her last words. She's not hanging for her life anywhere, where not being chased by a serial killer. We're just standing here at home, in the kitchen, watching her make coffee in one of my shirts, telling me that she loves me.

It's then that my desires take over my body completely. She's turned around fixing the coffee and start toward her without a word, spin her around by the arm and rush to kiss her before she can object. I can hear the breath she sucked in hit my ears as her lips press up against mine. She's shocked, but she quickly melts and drags her hands up my chest and into my hair, taking handfuls of it as she moans.

I love kissing her. She just feels so good.

She's wrapping her arms around my neck and I can't contain myself anymore. With two hands, I grab her by the waist and lift her up with ease, setting her down onto the countertop, hearing her yelp into my mouth. She kisses me back harder once she's settled and hooks her legs around me and pulls me in, brushing her fingers down my jaw.

"You know," She moans against me while I kiss her, "it was so hard when you were with Vaughn."

Why is she bringing her up now? I understand that we have kind of made an agreement to tell each other things, but now? Really?

"Just," maybe if I kiss her just a bit harder, she'll get the message, "imagining her getting to do this," I guess not, "and get to kiss you… it was so painful, Rick."

I kiss her once more for good measure and pull back a bit, "Well, to be fair, I had to spend an entire year like that while you were with Josh. I think we can call it even."

Hopefully now, we can get back on track. I lean forward and capture her lips again, but when I feel her hand on the center of my chest, I know she's trying to stop us. And when I pull back, she has a knot in her brow. Her legs give my waist a bit of a squeeze and she tugs at the openings of my robe. Her eyes seem haunted all of the sudden.

"If this is what you felt like back then, I-I'm… I'm so sorry, babe."

"Well…" I put my hands on her legs, drawing from the warmth of her body, "I'm sorry too… about Vaughn. I knew the situation I was getting myself in to, it was my fault for ever letting you think I would do that."

"So," she's putting her hands anywhere they'll go, but they end up in between the folds of my robe, "she tried to kiss you?"

" _Tried,_ yes. She tried to get me all hot and bothered right before she said a few things. That's when she tried to kiss me but… that's when I remembered seeing that picture of Meredith and relived all that heartache in a split second and knew that I couldn't put you through that."

"B-but she tried. I mean, we were still on the rocks about what happened the other night and-"

"I already told you, Kate." My voice is quiet, hoping that she'll have to listen a bit more intently. "I don't care what we're going through. I don't care if you tell me that you hate my guts, I wouldn't do that, least of all to you. I'd much rather get shot than have to live through betraying you like that."

"What…" She's struggling to say what she wants to, I can tell by the way she's biting herself back and not looking me in the eye. "What did she say to you, Castle?"

I… I can't tell her all that. Not yet. Vaughn knew a lot more about my past than she does. Vaughn may only know the headlines, but she deserves to know what really happened. Vaughn said a lot of things that were a lot more true than Vaughn probably knew… and the woman in front of me, she loves me.

"Kate." I pull at her arms and take her hands in mine. When I look up to her eyes, she's looking at me with an arched brow and her beautiful, glimmering eyes. "There isn't a day that goes by when I don't think of that night… the night you came to me. And I'm not talking about the most incredible sex I've ever had… because let's be honest it was-"

"Yeah, it was amazing."

"That thing you did with your legs?" That was amazing to see for the first time.

"When we rounded third base?" Ha, that was incredible. To think that I'm the first that's ever managed to do that.

"No, it was magical but… I'm…" Come on, Rick, you can do it. "You had just lost everything, Kate." That makes her smile vanish. "You lost your job, you lost your case and the one lead you had, your partner had abandoned at the time when you needed him most."

"No, Castle-" She tries to take some of the blame.

"You almost lost your life, and… you came to me and you said that you didn't care."

That makes her smile start to come back… slowly.

"You didn't care that you had to walk away from your job, or that your lead had gotten away. You didn't care that you were back at square one with your mom's case. And you just wanted me. You came to me and said that you only wanted me… just me. That _I_ was enough for you. Not my wealth, or fame, or my books… just me. You have to understand that that was the first time I've ever had that in my life, Kate… and _you_ gave that to me."

She smiles a happy smile at me, putting her hand on my cheek as she seems to swoon.

"So I guess I'm just wondering what changed?"

Her smile gets heavy and her hand falls off my face. She lets out a short breath and shakes her head. "So it's true."

Is what true? That didn't really make any sense.

She looks back up to me and looks me in the eye. "You don't know how much I really love you."

I don't want to throw blame onto her so quickly. I guess we both have problems. "Well… I know that you do, just…"

"What? Not enough?"

"It's what I'm always afraid of, Kate."

"Rick," she sighs and puts her hand back on my cheek and smiles at me again. "I'm not going to cop out and say I can't express to you how much you mean to me. And if you want the truth, I'd lose everything else in my life before I ever lost you. And losing you because our lives are in danger is one thing, and something that's easier to handle, but… Vaughn showed up and all of the sudden I'm scared to death of having you just walk away."

Well, I guess it's nice to know that she has the same fears that I do. "I've put in far too much effort into getting you here to just walk away from it."

She smiles brightly again and breathes a small laugh. "And I love being here."

Hmm… now that's an idea. "Well… as much as I love being _here…_ since you have the next two days off, we could go up to the Hampton's."

She stops and I can see the idea lifting the corners of her lips into a face-splitting smile. "Really?"

"We leave now, we can make it just in time to watch the sunrise."

She's jumping down from the counter with child-like giddiness and I'm smiling as she goes. But after a moment, I feel her grab my arm and spin me around, putting her other hand on the back of my head and pressing up on her tiptoes to kiss me hard. She works her soft, perfectly-shaped lips against mine for an amazing few seconds. She stops and is skirting into the bedroom before I open my eyes.

Hopefully, we make it in time.


End file.
